Love Conquers All
by jazzpha
Summary: When Rukia is captured and taken to Hell as a prisoner, Ichigo and Renji fight to save her with help from an ex-Captain. As the fallout of the rescue spirals into total war against Hell, will anything be the same in Soul Society again? Multiple pairings.
1. A Friend in Need

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach, or any of the characters created by Tite Kubo. If one of my own characters pops up at some point, though, they are definitely mine.

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 1: A Friend in Need

* * *

  
**

'Damn it,' Ichigo thought through the haze, 'not again.'

The shouts of his friends sounded oddly muffled, as if cotton balls had been stuffed into his ears. One voice, though, came through as sharp as a knife.

"How does it feel, boy? How does it feel to die?"

"Actually, pretty much the same as every other time," the orange-haired Soul Reaper shot back. "What, do you want a cookie, asshole?"

The figure above him paused for a moment, before speaking again.

"Come to think of it, one of those would be… wait, are you mocking me, you wretch?"

The Soul Reaper just chuckled faintly.

"I guess I was, but it's no fun if you're too stupid to get it in the first place."

The dark-eyed man standing over Ichigo roared in rage and brought down his sword, with these parting words that hurt more than any blade ever could:

"She belongs to me, boy."

Everything went white after that.

* * *

_Three Months Ago_

Ichigo rolled over in his bed, still half asleep and trying to get away from whatever had been poking him, but the prodding continued. Finally the Soul Reaper opened bleary eyes to see Rukia standing over him in her pajamas, an insistent look on her face.

"What'dyuwant?" Ichigo slurred out.

"I'm bored."

If Ichigo hadn't been so exhausted, he would have strangled her right then and there for waking him up like that.

"So what?"

"So what?" Rukia echoed, surprised by the reply. "So let's do something, you oaf. It's three in the afternoon already!"

"Rukia," Ichigo said slowly, "what time of year is it?"

"Um, summer, I guess."

"Exactly. So what does that make these next few months?"

"Vacation?"

"Right. And what's vacation for, Rukia?"

The dark-haired Soul Reaper glowered at the tone Ichigo had used just then.

"Don't patronize me, you brat."

"Just answer the damn question."

"Going out and doing things, obviously."

Ichigo all but rolled his eyes as he replied.

"Wrong. Vacation is for sleeping. You should try it sometime."

Rukia frowned, stifled by the pure force of laziness that was a teenage boy on summer vacation.

"Do you honestly mean to tell me that you're going to spend the entire period of peace, which we fought so hard against Aizen to win, _sleeping_?"

"Yep. And don't worry so much, Rukia," Ichigo said, sitting up and looking her straight in the eyes, "I'm sure that this peace isn't going to end any time soon."

The forcefulness of his voice was almost enough to make her believe him, but Rukia had her doubts.

"I don't know…"

Suddenly, Rukia had her train of thought derailed by a large, soft object colliding with her face.

"Ichigo! What the hell…" she sputtered, not expecting to be whacked by a pillow when she'd been thinking such serious thoughts.

Ichigo, far from being apologetic, was busy laughing.

"Lighten up, Rukia. What's the point of peace if you can't enjoy it, huh?"

The blue-eyed Soul Reaper was stunned for a moment by the strike, but then a mischievous smile appeared on her face. Ichigo had let his guard down, and he was going to pay.

"Hey!" he shouted as Rukia's own pillow smacked him in the face. "You can't do that!"

"Oh, really? I think I just did."

"Woman," Ichigo growled with a sharp grin on his face, "you just made a big mistake."

The sounds of the fight reached inside the closet where Kon had been resting, and after a few minutes he slid the door open and shouted.

"Would you kids shut up? I'm trying to sleep here, damn it!"

Ichigo and Rukia stopped beating on each other for a moment, and then gave each other conspiratorial glances and smiled before nodding and looking over at the stuffed lion, who had suddenly become very afraid.

"Hey, what was with that look? Hey, what're you guys coming over here for? Wait—stop! Ow, that hurt, you jerks! Aaahh!"

* * *

Across the spirit plane, in Soul Society, the Sixth Division Captain and his Lieutenant were sharing a rather tense cup of tea

"If you don't mind me saying so, Captain," Renji said as he took a protracted sip, "you look even more detached than usual. Is something wrong?"

Byakuya shot his lieutenant a perturbed glance, but when Renji's eyes refused to waver, the Captain sighed and spoke.

"Nothing's wrong, Renji," he answered. "Stop being so solicitous; it's bordering on pathetic."

Abarai smiled.

"Good to see you're not going soft, Captain. By the way," he continued, "have you heard anything from Rukia lately?"

"No. What she does in the Human World during her leave period is none of my business."

The finality of Byakuya's tone told Renji that to continue talking would have been a very bad idea, so the red-haired lieutenant rose and took his leave.

* * *

"Now isn't this better, Ichigo?"

The Soul Reaper had to admit that sitting under a tree in the shade next to Rukia, with a nice breeze blowing through the leaves, was a definite upgrade from sleeping.

"Yeah, I guess it is. You were right."

Rukia arched an eyebrow. Clearly Ichigo couldn't have…

"Did you just say I was right?"

"What, are you deaf, or did you just not hear me from all the way down there?"

Ichigo's joke was met with a swift punch on the arm courtesy of Rukia, or at least that's how she'd seen it going in her head. Ichigo's reflexes took over and caught her fist inches away from his bicep, holding it there. The contact caught both of them off-guard, and for a few moments neither of them moved a muscle, focused only on the energy flowing back and forth between their hands. After a while Rukia's fist relaxed and Ichigo just held her hand in his, turning his head to look his friend in the eyes. Rukia found herself short of breath, waiting on whatever Ichigo was about to say.

"Thank you, Rukia."

"What for?"

Ichigo shrugged and smiled, the look on his face making him seem five years older than he was.

"Nothing in particular," he said.

"Oh, come on," Rukia sighed, "don't give me that. I was expecting something deep and you just cop out like always. You're so lame, Ichigo."

She expected him to shout off some kind of insult, or go pout like a kid in a corner, but he did neither of those. Instead, he just let out a sound that was somewhere between a bittersweet chuckle and a heartbroken sigh.

"What do you see me as, Rukia?"

The azure-eyed Soul Reaper tried to pull away from what she knew was coming, but Ichigo held her hand fast.

"I…I don't quite follow, Ichigo."

"Liar."

Rukia had never heard Ichigo sound so forceful or scorning before, and that one word, coupled with the unspoken feeling behind it, almost brought tears to her eyes.

"Ichigo, please, don't do this…"

The tone of her voice almost made Ichigo relent, but he hardened his heart and pushed forward. He'd taken the first step, and now there was no going back.

"Do what? Actually force you to face your own feelings? Stop being such a coward, Rukia. All you ever do is push people away and blame yourself for what happens later on. Quit wallowing in self-pity and just be happy for once!"

"Ichigo…"

A soft, rustling breeze passed through the leaves above the pair as seconds passed. With each one they drew closer and closer, almost unconscious of the shrinking distance between them. Soon enough they had come together, months and months of tension evaporating as they kissed. When Rukia drew back to catch her breath, Ichigo leaned over and whispered, his breath making the hairs on her neck stand up.

"Do you love me?"

Rukia shot upright in her bed, drawing in rapid, heaving breaths. Her hair was in complete disarray and she was sweating bullets, but the Soul Reaper couldn't care less about either of those things. Her mind was still swimming from her dream, which had been so vivid she could have sworn it had actually happened. Still, she sought comfort in the fact that it had been a dream, and nothing more.

Just a dream.

But that brought another thought into Rukia's head that disturbed her greatly; if it had been a dream, then where had Ichigo's words come from? Was it her own heart, telling her to make up her mind? She was so confused, she just wanted to scream. If she did that, though, Ichigo would definitely wake up, and she would rather bang her head against a brick wall right now than talk to him. But knowing how much fate loved screwing with her, Rukia knew that he was going to show up in front of her sooner rather later.

"Hey, you okay, short-stuff?"

God _damn_ it.

Rukia silently willed herself to look up, coming face-to-face with a concerned pair of deep brown eyes. The moonlight played off of them and made it seem as if they were alive, swirling pools reaching out to grab her and pull her under. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could barely breathe.

"Rukia, seriously, are you all right? Hey!"

Icihgo snapped his fingers right next to her ear, which shocked her out of her stupor.

"I—yeah, I'm fine. Really."

"You sure? You look like you've got a lot on your mind. You want to talk about anything?"

The thought of doing that terrified Rukia even more than the thought of Grimmjow leaping through the window.

"What? No, no, I don't want to talk about anything. Nope, nothing at all. I just need to get back to sleep, that's all."

Ichigo arched his eyebrows at that, Rukia's behavior making him both worried and curious.

"Do you have a fever, Rukia? You're sweating a ton and you look like hell."

The female Soul Reaper gave a small smile at that.

"Thanks for the compliment, jerk."

"Here, just shut up and hold still for a second."

Ichigo remembered that his mother had always used a specific method for checking to see if he had a fever, which involved kissing his forehead and seeing if there was a huge difference in temperature. The orange-haired Soul Reaper quickly leaned forward and touched his lips to Rukia's forehead before she could squirm away, feeling nothing out of the ordinary and pulling back, albeit slower than he had advanced.

This gesture, which Ichigo saw as simply acting concerned for his friend, caused a shiver to pass through Rukia that felt more akin to an electric shock. Despite all of the experiences the two of them had shared, this was the first time Ichigo had done something so intimate and caring. She looked up at him and drew in a breath, trying to find the words to say…

"Ichigo…"

"Yeah?"

… and failing miserably.

"Never mind," she finished, hanging her head.

Ichigo wanted to do something to comfort his friend in that moment, but knew that the best thing for her to do was rest. Must have been some hell of a dream.

"Get some rest, Rukia," he encouraged, brushing some strands of hair away from her face and causing her to shiver again. "I'm sure you'll feel fine in the morning."

The door to the closet slid shut and Rukia gave in to the fatigue, collapsing back onto her pillow. As she rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, her thoughts told her only one thing.

No, it won't be okay in the morning.

Ichigo, whether he knew it or not, had lit a small flame in the corner of her heart, and now it was going to do what fire did best.

It was going to spread, and it was going to consume her heart completely. To be honest, though, Rukia thought as she drifted off to an uneasy sleep, a small smile on her face, she didn't really mind that one bit.

* * *

**A/N**: I'd had a couple of ideas swimming around in my head for a while, but this one was the most insistent. If response is favorable, I can continue this story; there's a good deal of plot left (for example, who's the bad guy at the beginning?). So review if you liked it, or even if you didn't, feel free to tell me why as long as it isn't a flame (those aren't really constructive). Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

P.S.-- I finally got around to revising this chapter after God knows how long... there were a few parts in it that I thought could be strengthened, and maybe this version will grab people enough to get them to read the rest of the story (as I noticed that the hits dip sharply after the first chapter), but we'll see.


	2. StarCrossed

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 2**: Star-Crossed

* * *

_The Underworld_

"Another moon has come and gone, and still you have not given me a grandson. Please tell me why this is the case, Callos, my son."

"I am sorry, father," the prince said from one knee in front of the onyx-black throne. "I believe the fault lied with your concubine, who is apparently barren."

"Like the five other ones you've gone through, child?" the king asked, half-humorously, half-scornfully.

"I think I may have discovered the source of the problem, father. The problem is that none of them had a sufficient amount of spiritual energy."

An older youth standing behind the kneeling one snorted harshly.

"Someone doesn't have enough energy, sure, and I'm looking right at him."

"Shut the hell up, Aron. Do you want to join your parents in the Caverns?"

The older youth's orange eyes narrowed to slits and he clenched his fists dangerously, but did not act.

"I thought so," Callos jeered. "All brain and no brawn, you orphan trash."

"Enough!"

The king's voice boomed throughout the chamber, and the two arguers fell stone silent.

"Your incessant prattling makes my ears bleed. Callos, my son, here is my decree."

"Yes, father?"

"You will look deep into the Seeing Pools and search out someone who you think is strong enough in spiritual energy to give you a son. Once you have found her, take any measures you see fit to acquire her."

Callos rose to both of his feet and bowed low.

"Thank you, father."

On his way out of the throne room, the prince slammed his shoulder into Aron's, hoping to knock him over and failing.

"Asshole," the soldier muttered as soon as Callos was out of earshot.

"What was that, General?" the king muttered, a small smile on his face.

"N—Nothing, sire. Nothing at all. What is it you needed me for, my Lord?"

"I need you to look after whoever my son brings back here this time."

"How do you mean, my Lord?"

The king sighed.

"My son is impatient; he gets angry and dispatches his companions far before giving them a fair chance to prove themselves. I want you to make sure that he doesn't snap and throttle this new one three days in; spirits know Callos has turned enough of my hair gray already."

Aron bowed and smiled to himself. Finally, he had a chance to give Callos hell and get away with it.

"Absolutely, sire."

* * *

Callos stared deeply into the molten pools, searching and searching like a falcon combing a field for mice. After a few hours of gazing, the lava swirled and crystallized, giving way to a glassy surface that showed a slightly round face, framed by dark hair, sporting sharp blue eyes and pulsing with spirit energy. A hungry smile crept across Callos' face.

"I found you… Rukia Kuchiki."

* * *

_Karakura Town_

Ichigo swung Zangetsu through what felt like the 100th Hollow that day, hitting the ground with a tired thud. Out of the corner of his eye, the Soul Reaper saw Rukia finish off a Hollow and then just stand there, distracted, while another masked monster snuck up behind her. Summoning up the last burst of speed in his legs, Ichigo sprinted and threw himself between Rukia and the Hollow. Blocking the first attack, he lashed out and split his enemy in half with his first slash.

"All right, Rukia," he said, exasperated, "spill it."

"Spill what?"

"You know what I mean. You've been spaced out all day, and that was the third time I've had to back you up. What's on your mind? Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I doubt that," Rukia muttered half to herself, then raised her voice. "I'm fine, trust me."

Ichigo didn't believe her for a minute, but he knew that arguing with Rukia never ended well for him, unless he was saving her from death in some incredibly dramatic way. Shrugging it off, Ichigo slung Zangetsu over his shoulders and walked back towards his house.

That night, Rukia lay still in her bed and stared up at the ceiling, growing more and more agitated as sleep refused to grace her eyelids. After what felt like hours she gave up, grabbing Sode no Shirayuki and creeping down the stairs and out the door. The cool night air brought her some peace as it flowed past her cheek soothingly, but nothing as fleeting as the breeze was going to calm her down completely. A few flash steps later she was in the park, the moon shining high above her. Drawing her blade, Rukia began cycling calmly through her moves, the blade flowing like water. As she focused all of her energy on the dance of her sword the tension in her body finally seemed to melt away, her heartbeat slowing down to normal.

Until the sound of metal clashing on metal echoed through the clearing, and Rukia's eyes snapped open in shock to find herself deadlocked with Ichigo, who was wearing an obnoxious grin.

"What're you doing here, Ichigo?" Rukia demanded, trying her best to keep her voice level and sounding irritated. "I was doing this alone for a reason."

"It must not be a very good one," he parried. "What's the point of training by yourself when you can do it with a partner?"

Those words had a bigger impact on Rukia than Ichigo had anticipated. Kaien's face came to her mind unbidden, a few of his words echoing in her head.

_Don't die alone_.

_Entrust your heart to someone_.

She let herself exhale, feeling the knots in her stomach untangle now for a completely different reason. She was at peace with herself, for the first time in a long, long time. Rukia smiled, a genuine, joyful smile that Ichigo hadn't seen since the day Aizen had been defeated.

"You're on. But don't expect me to go easy on you, punk."

"Likewise, shorty. Bankai!"

"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki!"

And dance they did. Moving back and forth in an effortless game of give-and-take, knowing exactly where to strike and how the other would react. Ichigo's bankai might have given him superior speed, but Rukia knew all of his openings like the back of her hand. They both exulted in the feeling of combat, the blood racing through their veins as their hearts beat in unison and they felt truly alive. Eventually their blades stopped moving: Ichigo's black katana was resting on Rukia's neck, right below her chin, and Rukia's Zanpakuto was pressing, lightly but insistently, against Ichigo's sternum.

They both froze, realizing how close they had come to one another. Ichigo could barely breathe, whether because of exhaustion or because of excitement he couldn't say. Rukia's ears were buzzing, her eyes shining like gems in the moonlight. Saying nothing they moved closer and closer, a half step at a time, until they were no more than an inch apart from each other. After a moment's hesitation, their weapons fell to the ground unnoticed and the distance between them vanished entirely. The kisses they exchanged were far from feverish; lust was the furthest thing from either of their minds. The two of them were opposite parts of the same whole; he was fire, she was ice, and yet somehow they melded perfectly together, as if their souls had been paired from the start. They both felt completely content and at peace, but even that perfect moment had to come to an end, and eventually Ichigo drew back. His normally impassive face had become tinged with an admiration bordering on awe as he looked at her, his breath stuck in his throat. After a moment, he managed to string a sentence together.

"Well," he said, "this sure changes things, huh?"

Rukia chuckled.

"You could say that."

Suddenly, Ichigo's adrenaline decided it had better things to do and left his blood altogether. He slumped over, the exertion of the fight finally catching up to him. The grass was surprisingly soft, and he stretched out with a yawn. Rukia smirked.

"What do you think you're doing, Ichigo?"

"Going to sleep. C'mon, it's really nice down here. You should give it a shot."

"Why wouldn't we just go back home?"

"Home's so far away…" he groused, refusing to get up. Rukia thought about leaving him there in the cold by himself, but knew deep down that there was no way she was leaving him at this point. Sighing, she laid down next to him.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she said, keeping up her façade even as she grew warm when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

"You know you love it," he whispered.

"Yeah," Rukia said once she heard Ichigo's light snores start, "I guess I do."

She didn't see the smile that appeared on his face just then, his head leaning on her shoulder.

* * *

The earth of the park split open so silently it felt like a dream, and from the depths of the fissure a young man with dark eyes and a regal face rose up and landed gently on the grass. Looking at the two figures on the ground, one of which was certainly Rukia Kuchiki, his eyes lit up with malicious intent.

"And here I thought she was going to be by herself," Callos thought to himself, "but this is so much better. Not only will I get to savor the heartbreak of that boy, but a woman with a broken heart is so much easier to bend than one whose will is strong. This must really be my lucky day."

After preparing the spell for a few seconds, Callos released a light akin to the Menos' _negacion_, which promptly engulfed Rukia and pulled her, still sleeping softly, towards the gaping abyss.

"I almost feel bad about this," Callos muttered. "But not quite. Heh."

The prince held his newest betrothed in his arms, still enveloped in the light, and sunk back down below the earth, which swallowed the two travelers up and returned to how it had been, as if the hellish visitor had never shown up.

* * *

Aron paced back and forth in his quarters nervously, not knowing quite what to expect from his new ward. He knew from the outset that he was going to do everything in his power to keep her alive, but the big question in his mind was whether or not she would want his help. It all depended on the type of woman she was. A weak-willed one would be as boring as watching paint dry, but a strong-willed one could be harder to deal with than a hydra.

Of course, the General thought bitterly as he put his head in his hands, nothing could ever just be simple.

One of his messengers appeared in his doorway and bowed, forcing Aron out of his thoughts.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Well, sir, I have my report."

"And?"

"The prisoner… I mean, Prince Callos' wife-to-be, has arrived. She seemed to be asleep, and upon waking she became manic and seemed to think she was in some kind of nightmare, the poor girl. She kept calling out for an 'Ichigo', and managed to kill two of her guards with her bare hands before we subdued her."

"Well, that's certainly a first," Aron said, at once impressed by this young woman and terrified of what trying to keep her alive would be like. "How is she doing now?"

"She's sleeping fitfully, sir. Would you like her to be transferred here?"

"Yes, please. Is there anything else?"

"Oh, one more thing. She seemed to possess a Soul Reaper's Zanpakuto, which she advanced to its _shikai_ form before we got her under control."

"Really? That's not a complete shock, I guess. Do you know what it looked like?"

"No, sir, I am sorry," the messenger replied, "the shape of it escapes me at the moment. I do recall that it was pure white, though."

_You have got to be kidding_.

"Did you happen to catch its name?" Aron asked, struggling to keep fear out of his voice. If this was a mere coincidence, if she was really the one who had wound up here, if it was really Byakuya's sister, then karma really, really hated him.

"I think it was something like 'Soda ni Shariuki'. Sorry, but I was so busy trying not to die that I didn't get the name down exactly. Sir? Sir, are you all right?"

Aron had collapsed into a chair, his hand shaking before he clenched it into a fist.

"I'm fine. Just leave me in peace, and bring in the young Kuchiki in as soon as you can."

"At once, General!"

When his door had closed, Aron walked over to his desk and pulled out an aged picture frame from the bottom drawer, blowing the dust off of the surface and looking at the faces that stared back at him. There was his face, from a happier time, and right below him was a young man with wild black hair and bright violet eyes.

"Well, Byakuya," Aron said to the portrait, "if I can't make it up to you, I can at least make it up to your sister. I'll keep her safe and repay my debt, you have my word."

As soon as the General had put the frame back, the door slid open again and Rukia was brought in by two attendants, lying still as death on a stretcher.

"Put her down on my bed and leave us."

The two orders were obeyed immediately, and Aron gazed down at Rukia's face with sadness.

"You look a lot like him, your brother," he said, "but I hope, for your sake, that you didn't get his temper."

The General put his hand on her forehead, gazing into her mind and looking at her last memories of the world above. There was a swordfight, and then…

'_I love you, Ichigo._'

The last thought she had formed played over and over again in Aron's head as the cruelty of the situation became fully apparent to him.

"Oh, Callos, you bastard," he swore, helping himself to a bottle of sake and trying in vain to calm himself down. That scumbag of a prince had stepped over the line.

In that moment, the General formed his resolve and made it as impenetrable as the walls of the Seireitei. Not only was he going to keep her alive, he was going to reunite Rukia with her family and friends. Even if it cost him his life, he owed it to the Kuchiki clan, and he owed it to himself. He had to do this. But he also had to do it right, and that would take planning. Pulling out a pad of paper, Aron immediately began sketching out ideas that raced through his brain like lightning, desperately searching for one that could work.

He was so absorbed in his work that the General never heard Rukia wake up, nor did he see her call her sword to her side through sheer force of will. What he did feel, though, was cold steel pressed to his neck.

"Where am I, and who the hell are you?"

This wasn't good.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope this chapter was a bit more satisfying, and sets up what the summary hinted at. Not a whole lot of action, but I hope the character development was plausible. It'll really pick up next chapter and the following ones, though, when Ichigo finds out what happened and Aron tells Rukia about his history with the Kuchiki family and his promise to get her out of Hell. All this, and Kenpachi Zaraki! What's there not to love? I hope you all enjoyed this part, and PLEASE please please review if you have the time, even if it is only a sentence or so. It's what keeps us writers going, feedback.


	3. In Memoriam

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 3: **In Memoriam

* * *

_Several Years Ago_

"But grandfather, I was going to…"

"No 'buts', Byakuya," the head of the Kuchiki clan replied, cutting him off. "I need some of that fruit, and the stock here in Seireitei has run out. I have important meetings to attend, or I would go to pick up some more myself."

"It's in the Rukon District, grandfather," the young Kuchiki said with a wrinkle of his nose. "Do you want me to catch some disease and die?"

Ginrei laughed at that.

"Byakuya, my boy, going into the Rukon District won't kill you. I went roaming around there many a time back in my younger days, and I had many adventures. Just go get me that fruit, kid," he finished, sinking into his chair and closing his eyes.

"You never know what else you might find."

_Stupid old man._

Byakuya had forced himself to put on peasant clothes so that he would blend in easier with the swelling crowd, and he hated every minute of it. He swore that as soon as he found this fruit and bought it, he was going to burn the whole district to the ground. Looking up ahead, the young noble saw some heavy-set thugs eyeing him up like meat and instinctively reached for his zanpakuto, only to find that he had left that at home as well, in order to keep from drawing attention to himself. Not good.

"Hey, get a load of that pale-skin over there, trying to fit in," the ringleader jeered. "I bet you he's loaded."

'Pale-skin' was a derogatory nickname used by those in the Rukon District to refer to those from the Seireitei, specifically nobles; they spent very little time outside in the sun, unless it was required by their duties, and spent the rest of their days behind closed doors dealing with their affairs, hence 'pale-skin'. This meant that even if Byakuya threw on the dirtiest pile of rags he could find, there were still some things about him that would seem out of place in Rukon.

But even if he couldn't use Senbonzakura, there were other techniques he could use to bring down his opponent. Breathing in to calm down, Byakuya waited for just the right moment and executed a perfect flash step, appearing right in front of the pack's leader and knocking a few of his teeth out with a left hook. He repeated the move a few times until one of the punks caught on and grabbed Byakuya into an armlock and twisting until he heard a crack. Kuchiki didn't want to give his assailants the pleasure of hearing him scream, but after a hard kick almost broke one of his legs, he was close to giving in.

"Oi, Rama," a voice shouted out unexpectedly, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Beat it, Saika," the bully holding Byakuya back snarled. "We're teaching this pale-skin here a lesson. If you get in the way, we'll smack you up, too!"

Saika grinned at that, a wolfish, predatory grin that seemed to glint when paired with his bizarrely orange eyes.

"'Izat so? I'd love to see you try, coward."

The bully's eyes widened with rage and he charged, letting Byakuya go in the process. Kuchiki tested his bones to make sure none of them were broken besides his arm, and then he turned his attention to the fearless kid in front of him. He was about as tall as Byakuya, and lean, but Kuchiki could tell from looking at him that Saika was pure muscle, with a killer instinct to boot. A pair of swords was stuck into a patchy sash in imitation of a daisho, but Byakuya could tell by their look that, while the wakizashi was made of wood, the katana was actual steel. The three remaining bullies charged at Saika, their fists cocked back and murder in their shouts. The boy with orange eyes faced them down as if they were nothing more than flies, settled into a fighting stance, and put his hand on the wooden wakizashi.

Then he appeared behind the three punks faster than anything Byakuya had ever seen, even Yoruichi. He hadn't even seen the kid move, let alone draw his wakizashi and sheathe it. He expected that this was just a tactic to make his opponents wheel around and chase after him, so that they would tire out and give up. But as Saika straightened himself up, the three bullies groaned and crumpled to the ground, incapacitated.

"Hey, are you all right?"

Byakuya blinked and looked up, seeing Saika standing over him and holding out his hand. Kuchiki, his pride stinging as badly as his wounds, huffed and tried to get up on his own before pain seared his nerves and he fell to a knee.

"Whoa, slow down. How about you try _not_ to break that leg of yours instead? C'mon, I'll help you out. I don't live that far from here, and I can patch you up good as new in no time. How about it?"

Byakuya abhorred the idea of being a charity case for some slummer, but this 'Saika' did have a point, and he seemed sincere enough. That, and just what _was_ this guy? He had moved faster than even Byakuya could follow, and yet he hadn't leaked an ounce of reiatsu while doing it. Curiousity overcoming his pride, Kuchiki grabbed Saika's wrist and the two of them made their way to Saika's shack, Byakuya limping as the boy with orange eyes did his best to support him.

* * *

"Don't make any sudden movements, Kuchiki-sama," Saika said as he rolled up his sleeves and prepared the kido spell in his mind. "This'll be over in a second or two. Just to let you know, it might sting some."

"Just do it," Byakuya growled, impatient to be up and on his way as soon as possible, lest his bodyguards started combing the Rukon District for him and found him in this hovel.

"Whatever you say, Kuchiki-sama," Saika said with a shrug. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Don't worry about… AH! Son of a _bitch_!"

The makeshift surgeon winced in empathy.

"Sorry about that, Kuchiki-sama, but that was the fastest way to reset the bone and heal the tissue damage at the same time."

Byakuya was silent for a few moments, his face grit with the will to endure. A few moments later, though, he relaxed and looked over at the boy who had saved his hide and then fixed up his leg, asking nothing for it in return even though he knew whom he was helping. Most other Rukon rats would be on their knees begging for money, but Saika seemed content with the way things were. One thing was for sure: this was no normal kid.

"What's your name, Saika?"

"You just said it, Kuchiki-sama."

"No, I mean your full name. And you don't have to keep calling me 'Kuchiki-sama'; Kuchiki works just as well."

"All right then, Kuchiki it is. My name is Saika Aron, but everyone just calls me Saika."

Suddenly all of the fragmented pieces fit together in a way that made sense to Byakuya and his eyes went wide. Saika wore an odd smile as a teakettle whistled in the distance.

"Well, while you ponder over whatever it was that put that stupid look on your face, I'ma go get the tea. Be right back, Kuchiki."

While Saika was off getting the tea ready, Byakuya went over the story in his head. The story of the Soul Reapers named Aron.

They had been a husband and wife, Kasumi and Ryu Aron. They had both been powerful Soul Reapers in their own right, but together they were unstoppable. Yet they both denied captaincy, claiming that their powers would be used best if they could focus on altruism and charity rather than violence and killing Hollows day after day after day. They spent so much time helping the poor that the people of Seireitei almost never saw them, but the people of the Rukon District treated the pair like celebrities. One summer Kasumi found herself with child, and that winter a boy named Saika was born. They were happy for a time, and Saika passed three years in happiness with his parents. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

The two mighty Soul Reapers were attacked by a vengeful Hollow they had failed to completely purify some time before, and they were infected with a deadly poison before they could finish it off. They passed on to the human world a few weeks later, despite the best efforts of Squad Four's Captain Unohana and every doctor in Rukon. Captain Ukitake had made a strong push to adopt Saika, but Ryu had surviving relatives who, despite only wanting the child as a potential cash cow later in life, had guardianship of Saika as far as the law was concerned. After this the child had fallen through the cracks, and no one in Seireitei had heard from him.

"Yo, Kuchiki," Saika said as he waved a hand in front of his face, "your tea's going to get cold."

"Hm? Oh, right. My apologies, I was distracted."

"Don't worry about it."

The two of them drank in silence for a while, absorbed in their own thoughts. Not able to answer one question he had, though, Byakuya broke the quiet and asked Saika.

"So why didn't you ever go back to Seireitei? I know Captain Ukitake would probably be ecstatic to take you in."

Saika sighed.

"That place never felt like my home, Kuchiki. I'd visit it maybe once, or twice a year, tops, but Rukon was always where I felt I could be closest to my parents in spirit."

Byakuya just nodded, finishing up his tea and rising. Just as he began to leave, though, his eye caught the glint of steel and he stopped.

"Why do you just have one steel sword and then a wooden one? Why not have both be the same?"

"Because some people aren't worthy of being fought by my Zanpakuto," Saika answered. "For those people, I have the wakizashi."

"I thought only Soul Reapers had Zanpakuto."

Saika gave another wolfish grin.

"Just because I'm not technically a Soul Reaper, that doesn't mean I haven't done any training on the side."

Byakuya nodded slightly in understanding, said his farewells, and left the hut in search of the fruit he was supposed to have gotten an hour ago. He decided to keep Saika's secret, an unspoken promise from one friend to another, and just told his grandfather that night that he was right: that you could never know exactly what to expect on a journey.

* * *

A few years later, Byakuya's grandfather had passed on, leaving Byakuya the head of the whole clan. The once-impulsive, open and brash boy was replaced by a cold, regal and rule-driven individual. Still, he did not forget the friends he had made in the time before his responsibility.

"The Lady Yoruichi to see you, my Lord."

Byakuya gave a small smile at the remembrance of their childish games, but the happiness vanished from his eyes as soon as it had come.

"Send her in."

Yoruichi strode in a few moments later and bowed, getting the formalities out of the way quickly.

"I have a favor to ask of you, Kuchiki."

"Speak, and I will listen."

"I need someone to fill in as my bodyguard," she said. "My most recent one was killed in a Hollow ambush, and none of the current candidates are anywhere near strong enough to qualify for the position. Do you know anyone who might fit?"

Byakuya thought for a few moments before a pair of orange eyes flashed through his mind and he smiled.

"I know someone who would do more than fit, but he might need some persuading to work for one of the 13 Squads."

"I'll beg this guy if I have to, Kuchiki; I'm sick of working on my own. Where do I find him?"

"Go to the 70th Rukon District, and look for any kind of scuffle; I'm sure he'll show up. He goes by the name of Saika."

"Sounds like any other brawler to me."

Byakuya chuckled.

"Trust me, he's much more than a brawler."

* * *

_Underworld—Present Day_

Aron didn't feel the blade at his throat shaking, which showed that Rukia wasn't afraid, and yet for some reason he was still alive. Which meant she was after information, something the General had plenty of.

"You are currently in the 3rd District of the 8th Ring of the Infernal City, center of the Underworld. As for who I am, Rukia Kuchiki," Aron said, ignoring her look of surprise at knowing her name, "I am the commander of the armies of Lord Mortos, Baron of the 8th Circle, General Saika Aron."

Rukia gasped in shock and took two steps back, but kept her sword steady.

"What did you say your name was, demon?"

"Saika Aron. I was a friend of your brother's, Byakuya Kuchiki."

"That's not possible," Rukia replied. "Saika Aron was a Soul Reaper who served under Yoruichi Shihoin years ago, one of the greatest of his time. He was one of the few men my brother said he truly respected as an equal…"

"Did he?" Saika interrupted. "Well, that was nice of him."

"And he fell in battle protecting him from an Adjuchas-class Hollow. There's no way you can be him; you don't even have a Zanpakuto."

"I left it in the care of Lady Yoruichi in the event of my passing, to protect until I returned to claim it. But such words aren't going to be enough to make you believe me; look at this, and decide for yourself if this 'demon' is a liar."

Saika handed the young Kuchiki the picture he had been looking at minutes before, and her eyes went wide as she held it in her hands.

"But this… my brother has a portrait just like this, and says it was the only copy."

"I had it on my person when I passed, and so it came down here with me. I have to say it's my dearest possession; a good memory in a sea of hatred and bitterness. I'm standing above your brother, in case you were wondering."

Rukia looked at the smiling figure, who had one of his arms around Yoruichi's shoulders and his other one blocking a sword swing from Kenpachi Zaraki. Byakuya had never told Rukia who exactly this man was, other than that he was a good friend of his who had been killed by a Hollow and dragged down into Hell by the vengeful spirit as it died. A few questions here and there had revealed that this man had been named Saika Aron, who had been Yoruichi's lieutenant before becoming Captain of Squad 10.

And yet, looking between the happy face in the portrait and the older, sterner face in front of her, Rukia couldn't deny that they were the same, just separated by suffering and time. The Soul Reaper sheathed her Zanpakuto, sitting down on the bed and blinking hard.

"This is too much," she muttered. "I'm sure Ichigo can make sense of it…"

As Ichigo's name flitted across her mind, Rukia remembered what had happened before she passed out and her heart seized up, her pupils shrinking to almost nothing.

"Rukia?" Saika asked, rising from his chair. "What's wrong?"

The girl let out a howl like a wounded animal, diving at Saika with desperate rage. She just needed to strike out at something, _anything_, and he was the nearest target.

Saika just sighed, raising his hand and casting a binding spell with a thought. Rukia collapsed onto the floor, where she writhed like a dying fish. After waiting a few moments for her to calm down, he picked her up and placed her gently on the bed, his normally bright eyes dimmed with sadness. A situation like this would drive most people to madness or depression, and she was a heartbroken kid who had barely had enough time to realize she was in love and enjoy it before it was cruelly taken away from her.

"For what it's worth, Rukia, I'm sorry," the General said softly. "Nobody deserves a fate like this, least of all you. I can't promise you that I'll get you out of here, but I can promise you that I'll try my hardest."

Rukia's eyes softened, becoming moist this time not with fear, but with gratitude.

"Thank you."

Saika knew that he was going to be executed by his master if he was found out, but at this point he didn't really care. Hundreds of years in Hell had gotten quite repetitive, with constant power struggles that never actually changed anything, and the General was more than ready to leave.

It was a good thing, then, that he had rounded up some allies to help him out. Locking his door and barricading it with every protective spell he knew to keep his ward safe, Saika walked swiftly out to the courtyard, where two figures were waiting impatiently for him.

"I apologize for my tardiness, gentlemen," he said. "Rukia had a bit more fight in her than I thought she would.

"Didn't I tell you she was feisty?" One of the men said with a sharp smile.

"This is wasting time," the other figure stated in a monotone. "What did you call us here for, Saika-sama?"

"It's time to make our move, my friends. Are you ready?"

"Give me the word and the Guardian's history."

"Good. That's what I like to hear, Grimmjow. What about you, Ulquiorra?"

"I already have the incantations memorized."

"Excellent. Just be ready to move when I give the signal, and we're home free."

"Until Callos comes after his bride, you mean," Grimmjow said. "Then we're all dead."

"Don't give that bastard too much credit, Jagerjaques. Besides, I'm sure at least Kurosaki will throw in with us once we bring his beloved back to him, if not the 13 Squads themselves."

"So you're starting a war before you even have allies? That seems rather stupid, Saika-sama," Ulquiorra said.

"Mortos is about to make his play for domination of the rest of Hell, Schiffer, and if he pulls it off the Human World and Soul Society are both screwed regardless. We don't need them as allies, my friend," Saika said, flashing a wolfish grin.

"They need us."

* * *

"What do you mean, you can't find her?"

"I mean I can't find her. No trace of her reiatsu in the Human World or in Soul Society. She's gone."

That was not what Ichigo wanted to hear in the slightest, but he was too strung out to waste energy arguing with Urahara. If no one else could do it, he would just have to find her himself.

"I do know something that might help you, though, Ichigo. I analyzed the traces of reiatsu from the scene of the incident, and one of them appears to be demonic in origin."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed.

"A demon? From where?"

"The only place true demons come from, Ichigo. Hell."

"How would I get there?"

"You can't," Kisuke said, his eyes hard. "And even if you could, you would most likely die before you ever found Rukia down there."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take, Hat-n-Clogs. Are you sure there's no way to get there?"

Urahra sighed.

"You aren't going to stop bothering me unless I tell you, are you?"

"Absolutely not."

"And you're truly not afraid of death, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

Images of the previous night flashed through Ichigo's head, memories of happiness only serving to make his heart grow darker with thoughts of hate and vengeance.

"I don't have time to be afraid right now, old man."

Urahara nodded grimly, noting the strength of Ichigo's resolve.

"There is a mountain about five miles south of here, a mountain which has a summit in the clouds. You must travel to the peak, where you will find the way. But if you die trying to get in, don't come crying back to me."

Ichigo chuckled darkly.

"Don't worry, I won't."

With that, Ichigo switched into his Soul Reaper form, left his body with Urahara, and vanished in a blur.

"Good luck, kid. You're gonna need it."

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry I ended this one kind of abruptly, but I didn't want it to get too long and bore people to death. Next chapter deals with the power structure in Hell, explains what happened to the Arrancar who wound up with Saika, and Rukia meets Callos face-to-face for the first time. Hope you enjoyed reading this (those who have stuck with me this far have my deep thanks), and **please review** if you have the time; it really helps me keep up the resolve to continue this story. Hope you enjoyed it. Until next time!


	4. Desperate Times

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Bleach or any of its characters, but I do own the original characters I created for this story.

**Author's Note:** I felt upon re-reading the last chapter that my OC, Saika, was coming off as a bit overpowered; there's a legitimate background behind his skills, but he's not supposed to be a god or anything. I'll try to tone it down a bit in the future, to make sure I stay away from the dreaded 'dude, that's a Mary-Sue' comment.

Anyway, enough babbling; let's get to it!

* * *

**Chapter 4:** Desperate Times

"You want something to eat, Rukia?"

"I'm not hungry."

Saika counted to ten in his head.

"How about now?"

Rukia shot her captor an exasperated look.

"Honestly, I just want to be alone right now."

The General shook his head sadly.

"Trust me, Kuchiki," he said sincerely, "the last thing you want to be down here is alone. That's why I'm here, to protect you."

"Protect me? From what?"

"Your future husband."

Rukia's throat went dry.

"My… what?" she asked, her toughness vanishing.

Saika got up from his desk and opened a cupboard, taking out some plates and talking while he did so.

"Your future husband, Prince Callos, son of Mortos. He's the one who captured you and brought you here, and he intends to marry you."

"Me? But why me?"

Saika shrugged.

"Maybe you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe you were the first attractive woman he saw, or maybe you just have a lot of reiatsu. Whatever the reason, you caught his eye, and so here you are. Don't look so upset, Rukia," he added, "I'll make sure he doesn't kill you, and then we'll bust out of here, like I told you earlier."

Rukia was relieved, but then she thought about what Saika had just said.

"Wait, _kill_ me? Why would Callos want to kill me, if he's going to marry me?"

"Callos has had many wives in recent memory, all for one purpose: to try and produce a son, so that his father can die in peace knowing that his dynasty is safe. There's a problem, though, and a big one at that."

"What?"

Saika leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Callos shoots blanks."

Seeing Rukia's look of confusion, he tried explaining it a different way.

"He's impotent, Rukia."

Rukia understood then, and as she put the rest of the pieces together in her head, her eyes widened in terror and revulsion. The General nodded his head.

"I see you've figured it out," he said, and then began muttering a spell in a language Kuchiki didn't recognize. A few moments later food appeared on the plates in front of them, but Rukia eyed it hesitantly.

"Jesus, woman, stop being so afraid of everything. Do you honestly think I would go through all the trouble of keeping you safe, healing you, and telling you about my past if I was just going to poison your food? Now eat; you're going to need the strength for when Callos decides to meet you."

"Why bother, if he's going to kill me anyway, once he…" Rukia couldn't finish the thought, disgusted by the hand that fate had dealt her. If only Ichigo were here, he would know what to say…

"Because if you show up in front of him all weak and emaciated, he's going to kill you right then as opposed to waiting until a few weeks from now. So eat up, Kuchiki."

Reminded in that instant of Kaien's insistent tone, Rukia nodded and began to eat.

* * *

"I need a new general to replace Saika while he is performing the special duty I have put in front of him. Whom do you recommend, my son?"

"How about Tarsin? He is very capable in battle, the his troops follow him without question."

Mortos sighed. This was why he needed to make sure Callos had a son: the prince was an idiot; brash, proud and utterly incapable of ruling.

"Tarsin is a berserker, nothing more," Mortos spoke coldly. "He might have brawn, but he is severely lacking in brains and leadership skills. He cannot lead."

"Then why not…"

"I have already selected a replacement, Callos," the baron said harshly. "This was a test of your aptitude, and you failed miserably."

Callos bit back his rage and swallowed his wounded pride.

"Who is the replacement, honored father?"

"A newer arrival, but one who displays both uncanny power and a devious streak that, I daresay, rivals my own. His name is…

"If you do not mind, Mortos-sama," a calm voice said from the entrance to the room, "I can make the introduction."

Walking over to face Callos and noting with disgust that fear shone in the eyes of the prince, the man inclined his head in forced respect.

"Greetings, noble prince," he said,

"My name is Sosuke Aizen."

* * *

Ichigo stopped home to visit one last time before seeking out the mountain Kisuke had mentioned, needing to say goodbye to his family in some way so that he could leave with a clean conscience. As he was rummaging through his closet for supplies, a calm and stern voice interrupted him. Ichigo turned suddenly, finding himself face-to-face with his father.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Ichigo?"

The orange-haired Soul Reaper chuckled, putting a hand behind his head.

"Do what, dad?"

He was expecting his father to come back with a humorous retort, or kick him, or do _something_ expected, but Isshin just sighed.

"Just answer this question, so that I can sleep easily. Is she really worth it to you?"

Ichigo's eyes widened for a moment, and then narrowed.

"How do you know about that?" He asked steely, too riled up for politeness.

"A little bird told me," his father replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Does it matter, Ichigo? Just answer my question: Is Rukia worth risking your life for like this?"

Ichigo stepped forward, looking his father right in the eye.

"Absolutely."

Isshin smiled at the sight of his resolute, powerful son and the man he had grown into: he was sure Masaki would be as proud of him as he was. His smile growing, Isshin took a step forward of his own and drew his son into a tight embrace.

"Then I wish you the best of luck, Ichigo," he said to him, before stepping back and walking down the stairs. Before he left earshot, however, he turned around and grinned.

"If you see Grand Fisher down there anywhere, tell him I say 'hi'."

He laughed at the look of confusion on Ichigo's face, walking down the rest of the stairs and joining Yuzu and Karin for some family TV time. For his part, Ichigo cleared his head and finished packing what he thought he'd need on his journey, switched into Soul Reaper form, and told Kon not to do anything stupid while he was gone.

_Not like it'll make any difference_, he thought bitterly, although not without a hint of a smile. Collecting himself one last time, Ichigo Kurosaki vanished into thin air, heading towards the mountain and the answers it held.

He just hoped he wasn't already too late.

* * *

Renji stepped through the open gate with a sigh, closing it behind him noiselessly. His earlier conversation with Captain Kuchiki still bounced around in his head, sending a shiver down his spine.

"_Hunt Kurosaki down. I want answers_."

"_Captain, do you mean 'find' Ichigo_?"

"_Did I stutter_? _Hunt him down_, _and get him to talk by any means necessary._"

Ever since he had heard of Rukia's abduction, and the circumstances surrounding it, Captain Kuchiki had been a different person. Oh, sure, he tried to hide it, but those who knew him well, like Renji, could see the change in his eyes, the uncertainty and fear creeping in on their icy calm.

"Damnit, Ichigo," Renji said to no one in particular, "what's going on?"

* * *

Saika and Rukia had finished eating a while ago, and were now sipping on tea and talking. The General regaled the young Kuchiki with stories of her brother's younger days, provoking reactions ranging from laughter to thunderstruck shock. She had no idea Byakuya-nii-sama had been such an emotional and energetic person when he'd been younger. Eventually, Saika's expression got serious and Rukia focused accordingly.

"I can't promise you that I can keep Callos at bay forever, and eventually you'll have to deal with him. What I _can_ do for you, though, is help you get strong enough to withstand the force of his reiatsu without flinching. If he smells even a hint of weakness on you, you don't have a chance. For this to work, though, I'll have to know that you trust me. Do you?"

Rukia nodded, her expression grim. Saika smiled. Before he could go into any further detail, though, one of his runners appeared at the door.

"What is it, Balthazar?"

"Forgive me for intruding despite your orders, sir, but I thought you might want to know that Lord Mortos has chosen a replacement for your position as General while you act as the guardian for Callos' betrothed.

Rukia thought she was going to vomit up her dinner, but General Aron was impassive.

"Oh, really? Who'd the old man choose?"

"He is actually here presently, and wishes to introduce himself to you."

Saika nodded.

"Very well, send him in."

The runner vanished in a flash, and Rukia made to lie down, but the voice at the doorway froze her still.

"Well, there's a face I didn't think I'd ever see again."

_It couldn't be_…

Saika's voice was a mixture of hatred, revulsion, horror, reluctant respect and a tinge of fear, all compressed into a single word.

"Aizen…"

"Aron," Sosuke replied evenly, not bowing in the slightest. "Long time, no see. I hear you've recruited two of my Espada to be your lackeys, is that true?"

"What do you want, Aizen?"

"What, I can't come by and greet my predecessor on the eve of assuming his position? But you still haven't answered my question, Saika."

"They aren't my lackeys, Aizen, they are my brothers-in-arms. I don't control them through fear, as you did, and look where that got you."

"In a good position to control all of Hell, from where I'm standing. I fail to see how that's a bad thing, Aron."

Saika couldn't keep from laughing at that.

"Control all of Hell? Are you serious, Aizen? Even you couldn't pull that off, especially not without your two traitor-underlings. Mortos alone commands an army twice the strength of Seireitei."

Aizen smiled.

"Mortos will be dead within the week, Saika," he said with a chilling sense of certainty, "and your precious hierarchy will fall with him. If you excuse me, I have business to attend to," he finished, walking out of the chamber. Right before he flash-stepped away, he looked over his shoulder and spoke.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Kuchiki. May you be fruitful and multiply."

Rukia felt blood flow back into her limbs as Aizen's reiatsu faded, collapsing on the bed in shock. Saika wasn't as disturbed as his ward, but this was still a huge problem. Reaching out through his reiatsu, he sent out a summons to Ulquiorra and Grimmjow before sinking into his favorite chair with a sigh. Why did simple things like escaping from Hell always have to get so complicated?

A minute later, the former 4th and 6th Espada appeared in the doorway.

"You called, Aron-sama?"

"This is about Aizen, isn't it?"

Saika smirked darkly.

"Your intuition is as sharp as your tongue, Grimmjow. If that bastard's serious about killing Mortos, our plan could hit the skids pretty hard."

"I don't think so," Ulquiorra said. "If this whole place was in an uproar over Mortos' death, wouldn't that make it easier for us to slip away, rather than harder?"

"Good point," Aron admitted, and was about to continue when a scream cut him off. All three soldiers looked over to see Rukia staring at the former Espada with wide eyes, no doubt remembering her last encounter with Grimmjow. The blue-haired Espada smiled.

"I see I make a lasting first impression," he joked, drawing a disapproving look from Ulquiorra.

"So childish," the 4th Espada said, drawing the two into a verbal argument while Saika turned his attention to Rukia.

"Hey, Rukia… are you okay?"

She was too exhausted to be flustered, so her voice came out as a thin, frightened whisper.

"What are _they_ doing here?"

"Schiffer and Jaegerjaques? They're my captains, Rukia."

"But they're… they're Espada! They work for Aizen!"

"Technically, they _were_ Espada, and they _did_ work for Aizen. Now they work for me, and they aren't really arrancar; they're something else entirely."

Rukia was going to drill Saika for information, but her head was pounding and her eyes could barely stay open.

"I'm going to sleep," she mumbled. "Tell me in the morn…zzzz"

Aron pulled the blankets over her and made sure she was asleep before turning his attention back to the former Espada. Ulquiorra was impassive as usual, but Grimmjow had a mocking smirk on his face.

"I knew the boss was a big softie, Ulquiorra. Sure you don't want to make her some hot cocoa and tell her it'll be all better, mom?" He finished, the jibe directed at Saika. Schiffer's eyes widened ever-so-slightly in anticipation: if this had been Aizen, Grimmjow would probably be missing an arm, or worse. What would Aron-sama do?

"I'd love to," Saika said, a mysterious grin on his face, "but I have a training regimen to draw up. Would you mind sitting vigil with Rukia tonight in my place, Grimmjow?"

His tone made it clear that this was not a question, and Jaegerjaques' eyes narrowed to slits that would have made Gin Ichimaru proud.

"You're not serious…"

"Do I look like I'm joking to you, Grimmjow?"

The former 6th Espada engaged his commander in a brief staring contest before caving in and stomping off.

"This is such bullshit…" he complained, pulling up a chair and sitting by Rukia's bed with a thick book in his hands. Ulquiorra's lips displayed the faintest traces of a smile.

"Well played, Aron-sama," he said.

"Thank you, Ulquiorra. Come, we have a training program to draw up."

"For whom?"

"Rukia. She must be able to face Callos' reiatsu without flinching, and for that to happen she needs to be at about Captain level, in Soul Society terms."

"So that means…"

Saika nodded.

"We have to bring out her _bankai_."

* * *

Rukia woke up what felt like 10 hours later, her head still buzzing but feeling a bit better. Alone in the room, she looked over and was surprised to see a mug full of something on a chair next to her bed, with a note leaned on it. The note read:

'From the boss. Drink it and love it or I'll rip your arms out; this shit took me 10 minutes to make. –GJ.'

Rukia raised an eyebrow at the oddity of the situation, but took a sip of the brew anyway, her eyes lighting up as she did so. It was hot cocoa, one of her favorite drinks. Footsteps sounded outside the door and soon enough Ulquiorra walked in, taking a seat in the chair and saying nothing. Rukia tried to keep quiet, but her curiosity burned too strongly to be tamed.

"So, what are you doing here, Schiffer?"

He looked at her as if she'd just asked why two plus two equaled four.

"I'm guarding you. It was Grimmjow's job, but Aron-sama asked for his help in drawing up your training regimen."

Rukia shook her head as she took another sip of the cocoa, which seemed to taste much better knowing that Grimmjow had slaved over it.

"You didn't answer my question. I meant what are you doing here, instead of serving Aizen. Isn't he your master, the one who created you?"

"He might have created us, but he is no longer our master."

Rukia was going to ask another question, but she could tell by the look in Ulquiorra's eyes that she wasn't going to get anything else out of him. So she focused on finishing up her drink instead, taking the last sip right as Saika and Grimmjow walked back into the room. Aron smiled.

"Well, you're finally up, I see! This is good; we need to start you training as soon as possible. Ulquiorra, you're relieved. Go get some rest, or whatever it is you do in your spare time; Grimmjow and I can handle the first phase of the training.

Ulquiorra rose silently, bowing to Saika.

"As you wish, Aron-sama," he said, using _sonido_ and vanishing with a buzz.

"Yo, woman!" Grimmjow half-shouted, stomping his foot on the ground to get Rukia's attention. "Get your lazy ass out of bed, we've got work to do."

"Have I ever told you your people skills could use some work, Grimmjow?" Saika said, but the former 6th Espada pretended not to have heard him. Aron gently gripped Rukia's shoulder and the three of them vanished, the door locking itself behind them.

When they reappeared, Rukia found herself looking at an area that reminded her of one of the places she had seen in class with Ichigo all that time ago, the Roman Coliseum.

_Ichigo_…

The very thought of the orange-haired Soul Reaper killed a little bit of her soul, and she was lost in thought until she felt Saika's hand on her shoulder.

"Don't think about him," he said firmly. "Thoughts like that will only cloud your heart and soul, and we need them crystal clear for your training if we're going to succeed in the time we have."

"And what are we trying to do, exactly?"

Saika gave her a wolfish grin.

"You'll know that soon enough, trust me. For now, just go stand over there," he said, pointing to a spot quite a few paces away from him and Grimmjow. Once she had assumed a fighting stance and drawn her zanpakuto, Grimmjow did likewise while Saika flashed out of the way, reappearing on a rock several feet away.

"First lesson, student, is this," Aron shouted. "Draw blood from Grimmjow with your zanpakuto before he kills you. Go!"

Rukia froze, wondering if this was some kind of test. In her moment of hesitation, Grimmjow flashed behind her and kneed her hard in the back, sending her flying.

"Here's a tip, kid," she could hear Saika say over the ringing in her ears. "Don't think so damn much!"

Rukia could almost hear Sode no Shirayuki scoffing at her, and Grimmjow's jagged taunts pushed her until she got up, finding her footing after a stumble and gripping her sword firmly. Grimmjow's eyes shone with the lust for battle, and as he charged forward, Kuchiki could only wonder if she needed that kind of abandon to become powerful enough.

_No,_ a voice inside of her said, that she knew belonged to Sode no Shirayuki. _You need nothing but will, trust, and the strength to persevere. You possess all of these things, child, but it is up to you to find them._

Rukia closed her eyes and focused, trying to delve deep within herself to the source of her power. As she drew closer and closer to the shining light, Rukia felt Grimmjow's sword slice through the air and descend towards her heart. Knowing there wasn't enough time to open her eyes, see the sword, and block it, she placed her life in the hands of her blade in a way she hadn't done since her battle with the 9th Espada. Her reiatsu flared, and for a moment Rukia could see the battlefield as clear as day, even with her eyes closed. Smirking, she blocked Grimmjow's strike and opened her eyes.

"That the best you got, Jaegerjaques?" she taunted, assuming a more confident stance. Grimmjow smiled, baring his fang-like canines.

"Taunting me, woman," he growled, "is not very smart!"

He disappeared and then reappeared behind Rukia, but she felt his reiatsu and shifted her sword accordingly, placing it behind her back and blocking the strike yet again. Grimmjow barked a laugh.

"You might get style points for that, whelp," he said, "but it leaves you so open it's disgusting." He moved to strike again, and Rukia blocked again, although it was much closer this time, and she could feel her grip on her reiatsu center starting to slip. She had to maintain appearances, though, so she smiled.

"Really? I hadn't noticed, seeing as how you haven't scratched me yet."

"Give it time, woman," he snarled, punching Rukia in the side with his free hand, causing her to lurch. While she staggered to keep her footing, Grimmjow followed up with a vicious slice to her abdomen. Reeling back, her world engulfed in pain, Rukia could only pray for some miracle to save her as Jagerjaques advanced again, murder in his eyes.

_Help me, Sode no Shirayuki_.

_Silly girl,_ the voice answered in a scolding, yet motherly tone, _all you had to do was trust me enough to ask_.

There was a flash in her reiatsu, and everything went white.

* * *

Ichigo figured he was about halfway to the mountain when he felt a familiar reiatsu nearby. He turned and raised his sword just in time to block a strike from Renji, who was without his usual grin.

"Renji? What the hell are you doing here?"

The red-haired Soul Reaper pushed off of Zangetsu and landed a few paces away, keeping his zanpakuto drawn but sealed.

"The Captain wants to know what happened to Rukia, and I can't go back to him empty-handed. You have any answers for me, Ichigo?"

Kurosaki grimaced.

"I don't have time for this right now, Renji. I have to go save Rukia!"

"Well, than I have some bad news for you," Abarai said, sending his zanpakuto into _shikai_, "because I've been ordered to beat the answers out of you if necessary. Either answer now or prepare to defend yourself, Ichigo!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Man, that was a long chapter. Hope it entertained/answered a few questions/left you wanting more. **Please review** if you have the time, it really feels super awesome when I see that someone enjoyed this story enough to take their time and tell me so. Also, here's what you can expect to see next chapter: Rukia meets with Callos (for real this time), but will she have achieved _bankai_ by then? Also, learn the history between Saika Aron and Yoruichi Shihoin! Also, more of Aizen being a manipulative bastard and all-around jerk.

Hope you enjoyed this installment, and see you next time!


	5. Call For Desperate Measures

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 6**: Call For Desperate Measures

* * *

"Damnit, Renji," Ichigo shouted as he fended off yet another blow, "now is definitely not the time for this!"

"Just tell me what I want to know and I'll lay off, Ichigo," his friend replied, voice sincere. "What's holding you back? I just want the truth."

_I was too weak_.

_I never saw it coming_.

_I couldn't protect her._

"It was my fault," he said, his voice low, as he sheathed Zangetsu.

"What are you talking about?"

Ichigo looked Renji square in the face, his eyes smoldering with anger.

"I was right there, Renji! Right there, and I still couldn't sense a goddamn thing when that demon scumbag came and took her away!"

"Woah, slow down," Abarai said, a bit worried at the look in his friend's eyes. "Did you say a demon took Rukia away, and that you were there when it happened?"

"Yeah, it was a demon," Ichigo confirmed bitterly, "but I was asleep."

He sat down on the grass and cleared his throat, telling Renji the whole story and leaving out nothing. When he had finished, Renji sighed and looked over at Ichigo with an expression that Kurosaki couldn't quite decipher. Spending another couple of moments in deep thought, he eventually got up, looked at Ichigo and… smiled?

"What're you sitting there moping for, you pansy?" he scolded. "We have a damsel in distress to rescue, don't we?"

It took Ichigo a second to mull over the words that Renji had just said, but then a huge grin split his face and he rose.

"Yeah, I guess we do," he said, glad to know that he wasn't alone in this. But then another thought stopped him cold, and he looked over at his comrade.

"What about Byakuya?"

Renji paused, trying to think up a suitable excuse before just deciding to go with the truth.

"I'll just tell him that you told me what you were going to do, and that I'm going to tag along to make sure you don't get Rukia killed like an idiot. I'm sure he'll love that."

Ichigo was irked at being made to look like an incompetent fool, but it was worth it if it meant he could go after Rukia with no one holding him back, and an ally watching his back to boot.

"Do whatever you have to, Renji," he said seriously. "Just don't take too long, or I'm leaving without ya."

The lieutenant smirked, concentrating for a moment and forming a Hell Butterfly to be his messenger. It fluttered away, caught in the glare of the sun, and vanished.

"Let's go."

* * *

When the flash of white subsided, Rukia looked at Grimmjow's halted blade and gasped, wondering what had saved her.

_You did, Rukia,_ the voice of her zanpakuto insisted. _Look down_.

Rukia complied, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw a thick layer of ice covering her chest. It was this barrier that Grimmjow's sword had collided with, and now he had backed off for the moment, waiting to see what would happen. Kuchiki blinked and the ice shattered, but where there had been a deadly wound just a few moments ago was now perfectly healed flesh.

Saika raised an eyebrow at this new development.

"Regeneration? Nice, Kuchiki; very nice. Let's see where this goes."

"How…?" Rukia forced herself to stay focused; if there was one thing she'd learned fighting Grimmjow, it was that if you had time to think, you were doing something wrong. She raised her sword to block another rabid blow from Grimmjow, only to notice that her sword was… glowing?

_Took you long enough to wake me up, Rukia. Now, shall we show this brute what we can do_?

Kuchiki felt like the name of her _bankai_ was right on the tip of her tongue, but it was like someone had tied her tongue up in knots and she couldn't utter it to save her life. Nonetheless, she'd still tapped into some kind of inner strength, and she wasn't about to let that pass by. Sidestepping with consummate grace, she delivered a smooth, calculated slash to Grimmjow's cheek. As a trickle of blood ran down his face and he regarded her in surprise, Kuchiki couldn't help but smile in her triumph. A round of applause distracted her and she looked over to see a familiar pair of orange eyes and the wolfish grin she'd come to know so well.

"Very well done, Rukia," he said, and she couldn't help but flush slightly with pride. "I'll give you high marks on your precision, but you of all people should know that delicacy has no place in your strikes."

She hung her head slightly, abashed, but looked back up when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't look so embarrassed," Saika said, his brow furrowed not unkindly. "You still did remarkably well, but try not to get so cocky in the future. Remember, just because you _can_ land a showy blow like that doesn't mean you _have to_."

Rukia nodded, seeing the wisdom in his words.

"Of course, Aron-sensei."

"Oh, come on, don't call me that," he griped childishly. "It makes me feel like an old man. Anyway," he finished, his tone shifting back to serious, "let's see if you can do that again. This time, Grimmjow will be fighting you at 50-strength."

Rukia's eyes widened in fear as she realized that Jaegerjaques hadn't even been fighting her at half strength.

"What was he fighting with just now?"

"About one-quarter of his normal ability, I'd guess," Saika said breezily, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As Rukia felt Grimmjow's reiatsu double, she prayed that she would be able to pull another rabbit out of her hat.

* * *

A few hours later, Rukia was bent over at her waist, heaving for breath and sweating like a pig, exhausted beyond all belief. But, somehow, she had won. She had drawn blood on Grimmjow for the second time, and what's more, she hadn't used some kind of last-ditch power spike to do it; she had simply fought and fought and fought until she felt like her arm was starting to merge with her zanpakuto. Rukia noticed that she was able to become in tune with her blade much easier now than she had been able to before, and she could feel Sode no Shirayuki's energy pulsing through her, blending with her own reiatsu more and more uniformly as the bond between them grew.

"I see you have begun to feel the beginnings of _bankai_, young Kuchiki," Saika said as the four warriors sat in his office, eating lunch and giving Rukia a chance to catch her breath before continuing training. Seeing the questioning look on her face, Aron elaborated.

"_Bankai_ can only be achieved when the Soul Reaper obtains complete control over the will of their zanpakuto and learns to call upon it through trust and willpower, instead of leaning upon the power of the zanpakuto. Right now, you feel the power of your zanpakuto coursing through your veins, but you do not control it. You might pull off a surge of power if your life is in danger, but that is not your will, that is not mutual trust between you and your blade. That is base instinct, and something so crude will never allow you to reach the height of _bankai_. Do you understand, Rukia?"

She nodded solemnly, and munched reflectively on some sushi, while Grimmjow smiled.

"Man, I love it when he gets all philosophical n' shit," he said mockingly. "Like talking is anywhere near as effective as fighting someone."

"Shut up, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra said tiredly.

"Speaking of fighting," Saika interjected, brushing off the former 6th Espada's remark, "Ulquiorra, are you ready to go?"

The former fourth Espada nodded curtly.

"Of course, Aron-sama."

"Good," Saika said, but he stopped when he saw the look in Rukia's eyes.

"What's wrong, kid?"

"I'm going to be fighting Ulquiorra now? Is that… safe?"

"Probably not," Aron answered, his orange eyes flashing mischievously, "but that's neither here nor there. We need to force you into _bankai_ sooner rather than later, and to do that we need to put you up against stronger and stronger opponents."

"Just be thankful you aren't fighting Aron-sama, woman," Ulquiorra said, and Grimmjow smirked viciously.

"Not yet, anyway," Jaegerjaques said, relishing the look of horror on Rukia's face as they walked back out to the training grounds under the light of the noonday sun.

_Are these people _trying _to kill me_? She thought morbidly, but shook her head and focused on the obstacle in front of her, namely Ulquiorra. As he attacked, the young Kuchiki knew in her gut that it was going to be a long day.

* * *

Aizen sat back in his chair and sighed, taking a moment to enjoy the careful unfolding of his plan. He had used _kido_ on the Seeing Pools to make them pinpoint Rukia Kuchiki, which he knew would incite Saika into trying to break out of Hell. If he was lucky, Kurosaki and his friends would show up, too, and he could kill them all at the same time he executed Aron, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow as traitors. He even had the covert backing of six barons of Hell when the time came to subdue Mortos' armies: all that was left to do now was take care of the old man himself. He would wait until after the wedding, when security would dip back down, before making his move. Soon, he told himself, soon, he would have his revenge on the world above.

* * *

"So… is this the mountain, Ichigo?"

The two Soul Reapers looked at the gigantic mass of rock in front of them and blanched; Urahara wasn't lying when he said its peak was in the clouds.

"Looks like it, man."

"And I assume we have to, you know… climb this monster?"

"Seems like it. Race you to the top!" Ichigo shouted, his fatigue replaced by a competitive, manic grin as he began flash-stepping up the mountain.

"Ichigo, we should probably save our… oh, screw it."

The two of them darted up the mountainside with astonishing speed, driven by their desire to get their first and the looming weight of Rukia's abduction hanging over their shoulders. When they finally reached the top of the mountain, they were surprised to find that the air wasn't thin at all. Not only that, but there was a massive dojo sitting on a clearing that had been created by _kido_. Not sure what else to do, the pair walked towards the building and stood at the front door for a moment before knocking. A few awkward seconds of silence ensued before a voice sounded out from within the building.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, Substitute Soul Reaper, and Renji Abarai, Lieutenant of the Sixth Division, enter and be acknowledged."

The two friends glanced at each other apprehensively, before they decided to just throw caution to the wind and go through the door. What they saw in front of them when they did, or more precisely _whom_ they saw, made them both freeze in place.

"Dad?"

"K—Kuchiki Taicho?"

It seemed impossible to both of them, but sure enough, seated cross-legged in front of them were none other than Byakuya Kuchiki and Isshin Kurosaki. They rose upon hearing their names and drew swords from their respective sashes, settling into battle stances as Ichigo and Renji became more and more uneasy. Suddenly, with cries that split the air in half and sounded completely unnatural, the two men charged forward and brought their blades down in deadly arcs. The two younger warriors block on reflex, still freaked out and clueless as to what was going on. Something stirred deep within Ichigo, and time froze around him.

'Ichigo,' the familiar voice spoke out. Ichigo spun around and found himself staring at Zangetsu, in his spirit form.

"Old man," Kurosaki said, "what the hell is going on?"

Zangetsu looked at him seriously, as if admonishing Ichigo for not being able to figure it out on his own.

'This is a test of your resolve, Ichigo; your resolve to rescue Rukia from Hell.'

"How is fighting an image of my dad a test of my resolve!? I can't possibly strike him down, anyway," he appended, "he's my _dad_."

'Ichigo, Ichigo; you are smarter than this. What does it say about the strength of your resolve if there is even one thing, big or small, that will stop you in your tracks?'

Kurosaki was beginning to understand, a hard light gleaming in his eyes.

'You must harden your heart to every illusion, every trick, and every enemy. Trust your soul to know what is true, and do not stop until you have cut through everything else standing between you and your goal. That is how strong your resolve must be, if you are to stand a chance in the wilds of Hell.'

Time started up again, and a quick glance over at Renji confirmed Ichigo's suspicion that Zabimaru had given the lieutenant quite a firm tongue-lashing as well. With renewed vigor the pair of warriors cut down the illusions in front of them, breathing sighs of relief. Unfortunately for the two of them, though, the test wasn't quite over. Now standing before them was a single figure, dressed in what looked like a combination of Ichigo and Renji's _bankai_ outfits: a black-shrouded man with a fur collar around his neck, and holding a black-hilted katana that had a blade made out of bone. As reiatsu began to crackle around this new menace, the two friends took their own stances and powered up, hoping that this wasn't going to be their last battle.

* * *

Sode no Shirayuki's power was thrumming through Rukia now; she could hear it more clearly than her own heartbeat, but it was still not controlled, still not her true ally.

"This is getting boring," Ulquiorra deadpanned as he slashed a line across Rukia's front with his hand. "Either finish this soon, or I'm going to finish you."

Truth be told, the former 4th Espada was holding back on Saika's orders, and was only going to force her into a life-or-death situation if she couldn't do this my sundown, but her lethargic pace had him mighty tempted. To her credit, Rukia wasn't holding back, but there was still something unseen preventing the true union between her and Sode no Shirayuki.

"What's holding you back, woman?" Ulquiorra asked. "You defeated the 9th Espada in a duel, if I remember correctly. What happened to that strength? Do I have to wear the face of Kaien Shiba to get you to fight?"

"Damn, that was low, even to me," Grimmjow said, while Saika just watched wordlessly, doing his best Urahara impression.

Rukia hadn't been expecting something like that in the slightest, and when she heard Kaien's name said with such… carelessness, something inside her snapped. Reiatsu surged through her as she moved to strike down the former Espada, her resolve to kill singing in her blade and in her blood. With a shout born from the depths of her heart, Kuchiki swung her sword down and let loose all of her knotted up rage that had nestled in her stomach over the past few grueling hours. When the smoke cleared, Rukia's zanpakuto was buried in Ulquiorra's wrist, and the Espada had a look on his face that she couldn't make sense of, an odd mix of surprise, relief and… pride?

"Well, I can't really say that you _didn't_ do it," Saika said from her left, snapping Rukia out of her afterglow, "but you still relied on an outside catalyst. You have to get to the point where you can consciously control your power, Rukia, and not be left at the mercy of your enemies while you wait for the right combination of things to happen. C'mon," he said, putting his hand gently on Rukia's shoulder, "let's take a break for now, the sun will set soon."

The pair of them walked away, but Grimmjow and Ulquiorra stayed back for a moment.

"Yo, Ulquiorra, what's with that look on your face?"

"She… she beat me. That woman… she beat me."

Grimmjow couldn't hold back a derisive snort, earning him a glare from his brother.

"What? It's not like you were fighting her at full strength or anything. Besides, if you'd been that much of an asshole to me, I would've snapped, too. Oi, bastard, are you even listening to me?"

Ulquiorra closed his eyes tightly and grimaced, as if trying to forget something, before opening them again and starting to walk back to Aron-sama's office.

_What the fuck_…? Jaegerjaques had never seen Ulquiorra this flustered, ever. Something was going on, and he was find out what it was.

* * *

"Rukia, pouting isn't going to solve anything. Besides, what'd that rice ever do to you?"

The young Kuchiki was currently mashing her rice without mercy, venting her simmering rage on the hapless starch.

"I'm so close," she seethed. "I'm so close I can taste it, but I can't make the final push. It's pathetic. I'm…"

"Oh, just shut up!"

When Saika saw that he had her attention, he continued.

"Pouting might be unproductive, but self-pity is the single worst activity to be indulging in right now and you know it. You're better than that, Rukia.

"Ichigo would know what to do," she said despite herself.

A light bulb flashed on in Saika's head. That was it; _that_ was the answer. Why hadn't he seen it before?

"You know," he said, his voice softening and taking on a bit of a mischievous edge, "Ichigo is actually on his way here, with that other friend of yours."

Rukia choked on her rice and sputtered, tears showing up in her eyes from all the coughing. When she finally spoke, her voice was small, but full of something that had been sorely lacking up until now: hope.

"What? Ichigo and Renji are…"

"Yep. Well, technically they still have to defeat the final guardian and open up the gate, but yeah, they're on their way. The thing I wonder about, though, is how they can be so ready to lay everything down, absolutely everything, for even just the chance to rescue someone who doesn't even have the resolve to save herself."

Rukia's eyes widened in shame as she absorbed what Aron had said, but he was right. She couldn't give into self-pity, and she sure as hell wasn't about to just play the helpless, screeching damsel in distress when she knew she could rise above that. This newfound determination, coupled from the rush that she got knowing Ichigo was coming to help save her, put a determined look in her eyes that Saika had been waiting to see all day.

"Let's go," she said, a fiery look in her eyes, and Aron had to fight hard to keep the grin off of his face and out of his voice.

"Wherever to, Rukia?"

She smiled like a lioness on the prowl, and Saika was suddenly very nervous.

"You know exactly where."

At those words, Aron returned the predatory grin and the two warriors flashed out of the room, their swords crying out for battle.

* * *

Following Aizen's defeat, the truth behind Urahara's creation of the Houkyogu came to light, as well as Aizen's role in creating the Vizards. The former captain's exile had been repealed, leaving him free to come and go as he pleased between Soul Society and the Human World. He still lingered in the Human World most of the time, but for tonight he was sitting on one of Seireitei's many rooftops, admiring the stars shining in the sky. A familiar reiatsu appeared behind him and Kisuke smiled, but his look changed when he saw the look on his friend's face.

"Something bothering you, Yoruichi-san?"

"The anniversary is in three days, Kisuke. I can't sleep."

Urahara sighed sadly; this happened every year, and he'd never been able to get his friend to give up the ghost entirely.

"He's gone, Yoruichi," he said gently. The golden-eyed princess took a deep breath and shook her head, scolding herself for being so weak.

"You're right, as always," she sighed. "It's just… he was..."

"I know."

Yoruichi looked up at the stars and remembered the many happy nights she had done something like this with her former lieutenant, but the memory that came to her most vividly in that moment was the day they had first met.

* * *

'_Trust me, he's much more than a brawler.'_

Yoruichi stood in the middle of the bedlam that was the 70th Rukon District, weaving between people's feet as she moved towards the nearest tavern. She was in her cat form, preferring to be as incognito as possible while observing her potential bodyguard/lieutenant. The two were one in the same to her, really; hierarchy had never been that big of a deal for the Shihoin princess, regardless of her noble origins. She settled into a corner and stretched out, her eyes carefully scanning the bar for anyone drunk enough to start a fight. After all, if this 'Saika' was drawn to brawls, there was no better place to look for him than the local watering hole.

She wasn't disappointed. A hugely-muscled man carrying a yari on his back walked up to a young man sitting at the bar and clapped his hand on his shoulder.

"Is there a problem, buddy?" The seated man said, not even glancing over his shoulder.

"I want to know what you think you're doing in _my_ bar, Saika."

Bingo.

"Is it your bar? Really?" Saika answered with thinly veiled contempt. "If that's the case, why don't you fulfill one of your duties as the proprietor and get me a drink?"

"You bastard!"

The man cocked his fist back and threw a huge fist right at Saika's head, but he caught it in his hand effortlessly and pushed back, sending the goliath tumbling out the door on his heels. This guy, whoever he was, had gotten Yoruichi's attention, and she walked towards the door to see the rest of the fight. As she made her way over, though, a pair of hands picked her up and hoisted her into the air. Too shocked by the sudden grab to move, she found herself staring into a pair of arresting orange eyes, which were currently squinting at her quite curiously. After a moment, his eyes returned to normal and he smirked.

"A rat's-nest like this is no place for a princess, Lady Shihoin," he said, putting her down.

Yoruichi was too stunned to move. What the _hell_ had just happened? No one, absolutely no one, had ever been able to identify her in her other form, except for Urahara, but he didn't count. Looking up at the retreating figure, she noticed that he was wearing a sword at his waist slightly longer than a katana that was humming with reiatsu. A zanpakuto.

Was this guy a Soul Reaper? No, he couldn't be; as captain of the 2nd Division, Yoruichi prided herself on knowing every single face in the 13 Squads, and she'd never seen this guy before in her life. Shaking herself and blinking twice, Yoruichi regained enough poise to pad outside and watch the brewing storm.

"Who the hell do you think you are, rat?"

Saika said nothing, making the thug even angrier.

"Say something, asshole!"

"Something, asshole," the young man with orange eyes answered, a wolfish grin appearing on his face. Yoruichi had no idea why this fairly ordinary-looking guy was baiting such a massive opponent, but if Byakuya of all people had recommended him, he clearly had something going for him. Maybe he was just insane, she thought with a smile. That would be an interesting challenge.

The thug, meanwhile, had become beet red with rage. Readying his lance, he bellowed like a bull and charged, aiming to gore Saika with a single thrust. Saika's hand moved to his zanpakuto's hilt, but that was as far as he got before he vanished, reappearing behind the brute. Yoruichi had to give it to him, he was fast, but just raw speed wasn't enough to impress her. He needed to be able to attack as well as move.

Just as she was about to strike out her most promising prospect so far, the brute's left arm fell off.

Yoruichi's eyes went wide. How… but… she hadn't even seen him _draw_ the sword, much less strike and then sheathe it. As the giant went down in a screaming heap, Saika shook his head disdainfully. Yourichi's sharp ears allowed her to pick up the single word he spoke.

"Coward."

She liked this guy already; he was gutsy, strong, probably as fast as she was, and had no tolerance for bullshit. Sure, he seemed like a bit of a smart-mouth, but she could fix that in time. The crowd dispersed eventually, the body hauled off by one of the thug's friends to receive medical attention. Yoruichi stayed right where she was, though; she wanted to see where this was going. Saika cleaned his sword on a piece of cloth and re-sheathed it, looking down at the black cat again. He gave an odd smile, an expression that reminded Yoruichi of Ichimaru's grin, but not creepy in the least.

"You're still here," he said, not quite a question, but not quite a statement, either.

"How did you know who I was?" she asked, curiosity burning all the way to her fingertips. Saika paused for a moment, then spoke.

"Hold that thought," he said, vanishing.

Shihoin was taken aback at being treated so casually, but she decided to let it slide, just this once. A few minutes later he re-appeared, holding a bundle of clothes, which he tossed to the cat in front of him.

"For you," he clarified when the cat didn't move, looking up at him with skeptical eyes.

"Why can't we just talk like this?"

"Well… because… it's kinda weird."

Yoruichi chuckled; men were so predictable. She picked up the clothes and sauntered inside, while Saika sat down on a rock and waited for her. A few moments passed before Saika felt a pulse of reiatsu and heard a voice, much more feminine this time.

"So, you still haven't answered my question. How'd you know it was me?"

Saika looked up and was about to answer, until he saw the figure standing in front of him and forgot how to speak.

Standing in front of him was, far and away, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her eyes had a glow to them that spoke of deep complexity, her reiatsu was veiled but intense, definitely of Captain class, and her body was completely muscle, carved to perfection. He was awed into silence until Yoruichi's face suddenly appeared right next to his, a smirk on her face.

"Boo!"

Saika yelped and fell backwards off of his rock, scrambling to his feet while Yoruichi just laughed. Even in peasant clothing, she looked like royalty. Regaining his composure, the orange-eyed young man smiled.

"Sorry 'bout that, my Lady," he said, using the honorific but refusing to bow. "Anyway, to answer your question, I could tell it was you because identifying and tracking reiatsu is my zanpakuto's specialty. Say hello to the Captain, Akumora."

His zanpakuto murmured something shyly through a wave of reiatsu, and Yoruichi smiled. If his zanpakuto was truly sentient, and had manifested part of itself even in the sealed blade, this guy was powerful indeed.

"What's your name, kid?"

"You just said it, my Lady," Saika replied with a smirk.

Yoruichi sighed.

"Byakuya said you'd say that, but I'd kinda hoped you wouldn't be that childish."

Saika's demeanor changed completely at the mention of Kuchiki's name.

"You know Byakuya?" he asked, all of his previous shyness gone. "How's he doing?"

"He's fine, I guess," she said with a scowl. "Still a pompous jerk, if you ask me. Even more so now that he's head of the clan. But enough about little Byakuya," she said, pinning Saika with a gaze that was at once scary and enthralling. "Tell me about yourself. And don't be such a smartass this time, got it?"

"Yes, mother," he intoned dryly, sitting back on his rock. "My name is Saika. Saika Aron."

Yoruichi's eyes widened, but before she could say anything, Saika cut her off.

"Yes, damn it, _that_ Saika Aron. And why are you even here, Yoruichi Shihoin?" he asked hotly, his temper getting the better of him. "If Byakuya wanted a message delivered, he could have just come himself."

Yoruichi snorted, offended.

"I'm no one's messenger, boy," she said, fairly spitting out the last word.

"Then why are you here? What do you want from me?"

Saika had taken steps forward as he had spoken, and was now only a few feet away from Yoruichi, his reiatsu rolling off of him in anger. For her part, Yoruichi was stunned by the amount of raw power emanating from this guy; she had heard about how powerful the child of two Soul Reapers might become, but she had never seen it first-hand.

"I… I need your help, Saika."

The young man could see that the woman in front of him was cringing under the weight of his reiatsu, so he pulled it back in. When she had relaxed, she continued to speak.

"My lieutenant, who was also my acting bodyguard, was killed by a Hollow. I need the spot filled, but no one in Seireitei is good enough. Byakuya pointed me to you, and to be honest I like what I see."

Saika was flattered that a Captain Soul Reaper held him in her esteem, but a dark, twisted knot at the pit of his stomach reared its ugly head yet again.

"No," he said sharply, "I can't. I can't serve in the 13 Squads."

Yoruichi detected the undercurrents of bitterness in his voice and was surprised.

"But that's what both of your parents did. You'd make them so proud, your mother and your…"

"_Don't_." Saika's voice took on a decidedly deadly edge, the orange in his eyes flashing like fire while his zanpakuto's reiatsu spiked threateningly.

"Don't finish that sentence. My father was a scumbag, and I hope he rots in a gutter."

This shocked the 2nd Division Captain; she had known Ryu Aron, a long time ago, and she had been young (she was only a few years older than Saika), but he seemed like the nicest man. So why would his own son call him a scumbag?

"He might have been nice on the outside," Saika said, as if he was reading her mind, "but behind closed doors, he was a drunk, an abuser and a gambler. I can't do anything that would honor his memory in the slightest, even if it would make my mother's spirit weep with joy."

Yoruichi realized then that, under his tough exterior and massive reiatsu, Saika was incredibly emotionally fragile. He needed some kind of guidance in his life, some kind of companionship, or he was going to go insane and squander all of his potential at the same time. Moving to within arms-length of him, Yoruichi gently placed her hands on his shoulders. They were the same height, and golden orbs stared deeply into smoldering orange pools.

"I'm not here to force you into doing anything you don't want to do, Saika," she said softly, "but both you and I know that this isn't where your place is. Not with all of the power you have right here," she said, putting one of her hands on his heart. Aron fought back a shiver, but it was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

"If you don't want to associate with the rest of the 13 Squads, that's fine. If you don't want to bother with the Lieutenant meetings, I can deal with that for you."

"Really?" Saika said, sounding like he was a kid hearing about Santa for the first time. "You could do that?"

Yoruichi smiled at that; she'd gotten through the armor at last.

"Of course; who do you think I am? Being nobility does have its advantages, after all. Besides, the 2nd Squad is practically its own organization anyway. So, how about it?"

Saika's eyes were indecipherable, but suddenly the storm of emotions cleared and his eyes blazed with renewed energy. Wrapping his arms around the angel who had seen it fit to save him from himself, he felt a small tear trickle down his cheek.

"Thank you," he breathed out. Yoruichi smiled gently, returning the gesture while a sliver in the back of her mind enjoyed the purely physical part of the moment.

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

* * *

Rukia noticed that her sensei had become distracted and struck, frustrated when her blow was deflected at the last moment.

"What were you thinking about just then?" she asked, wondering what had made her teacher zone out so thoroughly. He gave her a sad smile.

"Just the first time I met someone very important to me," he said, and Rukia could swear she saw a small tear forming at the corner of one of his eyes. The moment was shattered, though, when a royal messenger appeared right nearby them. Saika turned and acknowledged him, waiting for whatever news he had brought.

"Crown Prince Callos desires to inspect his betrothed."

Rukia's eyes went wide while Saika's whole body stiffened.

"Right now?"

"Yes, Sir."

Rukia's mind was racing: she hadn't achieved _bankai_ yet. She was agonizingly close, but she hadn't gotten all the way there yet. How could she face Callos now? She couldn't. She needed to think of a way out, and fast. Suddenly she hit upon the oldest trick in the book, and a small smile graced her face for a moment before she began her performance. She forced herself to start sweating and swayed back and forth, hacking and coughing like she was about to lose her lung. She managed to vomit in the process, which disgusted the messenger. Saika was smarter than him, though, and knew exactly what Rukia was doing. He decided to play along.

"Rukia! Rukia, what's wrong?" he said, trying his best to sound concerned. She looked up at him and said, in a perfectly hesitant tone,

"I'm… not sure. It hurts; am I… am I going to die?"

Saika had to fight hard to look worried instead of laughing his ass off at the cheesy performance, and he nodded gravely while pretending to take her temperature with the back of his hand.

"Tell my Lord Callos that Rukia has fallen unexpectedly ill, and will most likely not recover for three days."

"Then I will wait three days for her," an oily voice answered, "and not a second longer."

Saika and Rukia looked over to see the man Aron recognized as Callos leaning against a tree, a disdainful look in his eyes.

"Women," he scoffed. "They are such weak creatures. Get well, strumpet," he hissed at Rukia, who somehow kept an even face.

"Your life depends upon it."

The prince and his lackey vanished with a whisper and the two warriors were alone again. They moved apart and Rukia looked up at her teacher, the newfound strength in her eyes strangling her fear.

"If we only have three days," she said, drawing her zanpakuto, "we had better use them."

Saika nodded his approval and drew his katana, hoping that they could make it in three days.

If not, they were all screwed.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Man, that was fun. Sorry I crammed this one to the gills, but I wanted to come through on the promises I made content-wise at the end of last chapter. So Yoruichi and Saika's first meeting was revealed (but where did it go from there?), and Rukia did meet Callos for the first time, but definitely not the last. Thanks for reading, and again, **please review** if you would be so kind, it helps me keep this pace up. I might not be able to keep it this fast once classes start up, but I'll keep it as fast as I can. Hope you enjoyed it, and see you next time!


	6. Breakthrough

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters; those are property of Tite Kubo. I do, however, claim ownership of my OC, Saika.

* * *

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 6:** Breakthrough

* * *

"Kisuke Urahara," the aged voice of the Captain-Commander spoke out, "do you know why you are here?"

Urahara's gray eyes glinted seriously in the dim candlelight; in the presence of his former commander, all traces of the humorous, eccentric shop-owner had vanished as though they had never been.

"No, Commander Yamamoto, sir," he answered, his tone clipped, "I must confess that I do not."

Kisuke thought he saw the edges of Yamamoto's mouth curl up into the slightest of smiles, but then it was gone.

"I would have assumed that someone of your intellectual prowess would have been able to put two and two together, Urahara," the Captain-Commander said, "but it appears that I have woefully miscalculated. Has your time in the Human World really affected you this much?"

Kisuke's eyes narrowed as he tried to divine Yamamoto's meaning, but he came up empty. Still, his expression was not threatening, so Urahara allowed himself to relax the slightest bit. The old man sighed.

"As much as it gladdens me to see you again after your long and regrettable exile, Urahara-san, I have matters I must attend to. As such, I will make this brief. The Captain of 12th Division, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, was slain in the final confrontation with Aizen, as I am sure you know. The ranks of the 13 Captains are already decimated enough; it will not do to have yet another hole in our armor, should a threat to Soul Society emerge again. As the former captain of 12th Division, you unquestionably have the most experience with the Squad out of anyone in Soul Society. Will you consent to take the post up once again, for the greater good of Soul Society and the Seireitei?"

Kisuke blinked hard, staying silent for several moments as he struggled to figure out if he'd heard right. Become captain again? At one time, that had been his greatest wish, without a doubt, but things had changed.

"I can understand if you need some time to think, Urahara-san," Yamamoto said, shocking the former captain out of his thoughts, "but try not to take too long. I expect to hear from you within two days."

Kisuke bowed and quickly exited the Captain-Commander's chamber, his hands shaking slightly as bottled up tension washed over him.

"Soul Reaper robes suit you, Kisuke," Yoruichi said from down the hall, leaning against a pillar and smiling. "Then again, pretty much anything would beat that getup you wore in the Human World."

"They do feel… comforting, I will admit," Kisuke said, allowing himself to feel a bit of pride and joy at his homecoming.

"So, what's up? Don't leave me quivering with anticipation over here."

"Yamamoto-sama offered me the captaincy of 12th Division."

Yoruichi coughed in shock, taking a moment to gather herself while Kisuke just looked on, smirking.

"He what-now?" Shihoin sputtered, eyes wide. "That's great news, Kisuke!"

Urahara sighed.

"I guess," he answered, looking very tired all of a sudden. "It's just been so long since I've been here, and now to have this just dropped in front of me on a silver platter… it's a bit much to take in all at once."

"Just get some sleep, Kisuke," Yoruichi encouraged. "You'll think clearer in the morning, I'm sure."

Urahara nodded, which was followed quickly by a yawn. Grimacing, he said his farewells and lumbered lethargically towards his temporary quarters. Yoruichi went the other way down the hallway, so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn't see the person racing towards her as she turned the corner until it was too late.

"Ouch!" the figure shouted as it tumbled over, hitting the wooden floor hard. "Watch where you're going, damni…"

Yoruichi had recovered from the impact, and now found herself looking down at a flustered, shocked, and now furiously blushing Soi Fon.

"L—Lady Yourichi…" she said, the rest of her tirade vanishing in an instant. Yoruichi smiled, holding out her hand. The 2nd Division captain took it gently, almost reverently, and rose to her feet.

"Sorry about that, Soi Fon," the Shihoin princess apologized. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"No, no, don't apologize, Lady Yoruichi; I was being careless."

Yoruichi gave her protégé a warm smile, before walking over to a bench with her and sitting down.

"So, what're you doing up so late, Soi Fon?"

The captain sighed.

"Omaeda got his soul chain and soul sleep severed by one of the Espada during the final battle of the war, and since then I've been doing double duty. I swear, if I could beat the energy back into that fat, lazy, good-for-nothing slob…"

"You would have done it a long time ago, I'm sure," Yoruichi said with an amused chuckle as she ruffled Soi Fon's hair, thinking about how similar she still was now to all those years ago.

"What are you doing right now?" Yoruichi asked, concerned when she saw how dark the circles were under Soi Fon's eyes were. The captain yawned and stretched, leaning subconsciously against Yoruichi's shoulder.

"Just running these reports over to 11th Division," she said sleepily, holding up a bound package of papers. Her grip on them loosened and they fell, caught by Yoruichi before they hit the ground. The golden-eyed princess looked down and noted with a smile that Soi Fon had fallen asleep with a contented smile on her face and was now snoring lightly. She took the captain in her arms and flash-stepped to the 2nd Division quarters, putting Soi Fon down to sleep before pocketing the reports for the 11th Division. Yoruichi decided to just deliver them herself; besides, she had something she needed to talk to Kenpachi Zaraki about.

* * *

"It appears she's gotten much stronger, no?"

Grimmjow scoffed.

"I think the boss is just a pussy. No way could she stand up to him if he was giving it his all."

"I heard that, asshole!"

Grimmjow smirked, but offered his master no apology.

"Just be thankful I don't have my zanpakuto, you son of a…" Saika murmured, Grimmjow's barbs only making him fight harder against Rukia, who was starting to get shaky.

"Why are you caving in now, Rukia? Fight me!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Kuchiki growled, striking harder.

"It looks like you're going easy on me," Aron replied, parrying a thrust and knocking Sode no Shirayuki out of Rukia's hands.

"Don't hold back because I'm a friendly face," Saika insisted, sheathing his sword as Rukia went to retrieve Sode no Shirayuki. "If you wish to achieve _bankai_, your fighting spirit must be pure, determined, and unfettered by any hesitation whatsoever. When you strike, you must strike to kill."

"I know, Aron-sama, I just…"

Saika smiled as a frustrated look came over Rukia's face.

"You should be thankful you weren't born a killer, Rukia," he said. "You have compassion, and that is something that can be a far greater asset than it is a weakness. But you also have to learn to temper your compassion, and not to let it get in your way. Fighting to save your friends is positive, but not fighting because you fear someone you care about will get hurt is the epitome of weakness. All the same," he finished with a sigh, "I think I have nothing more to teach you. You have almost achieved _bankai_; I can feel that much just by standing here, but you need a final catalyst to push you over the edge."

Saika thought for a few moments, until he glanced over at Grimmjow and smirked wickedly.

"Jaegerjaques, I need you to call someone up here for me, and be sure to tell them that it's you."

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed in suspicion; the boss only got like this when thinking up some diabolical prank to play on one of the lieutenants.

"Who do you want me to call?"

"Yiratsu."

Grimmjow's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in annoyance.

"Are you fucking serious? He'll try to kill me again! Just like the last time I saw him, and the time before that! He just won't stay dead!"

Saika grinned.

"Are you afraid, Grimmjow?"

The former sixth Espada gave Saika a look hard enough to cut steel, but he refused to give an inch. Eventually Grimmjow sighed and agreed, readying himself for a fight.

"Oh, don't worry, Grimmjow," Saika assured him, "Yiratsu isn't going to be fighting you. He's going up against Rukia."

At this, Grimmjow smiled as well, but it was Ulquiorra's turn to be surprised.

"Are you sure, Aron-sama? What if she dies?"

Saika regarded the green-eyed warrior for a minute, an odd look on his face.

"Ulquiorra, are you telling me that you're concerned for Rukia's wellbeing? How… emotional of you."

Ulquiorra recovered at once, his mask back in place.

"I merely don't want all of our effort to go to waste, Aron-sama. That's all."

Rukia noticed an odd look in the former fourth Espada's eyes whenever he glanced at her, though, and resolved to ask him about it later. Come to think of it, he'd been acting oddly since the day she slashed his arm up…

"Oi! Rukia, pay attemtion!"

She snapped up at once, dropping her train of thought and staring Saika right in the eyes.

"What is it, Aron-sama?"

"I'm calling up a mid-strength demon for you to fight against. My hope is that, in a real fight to the death, your fighting spirit will peak and you will achieve your _bankai_. Are you prepared to face this enemy, completely on your own?"

Rukia felt her heartbeat spike, but she breathed in and calmed it down. There was nothing to be afraid of. She could do this. She _would_ do this. She smiled.

"I just have one question. Why is Grimmjow so scared of a mid-strength demon, if he's supposed to be one of the strongest there is?"

"Yiratsu holds a bit of a grudge against Grimmjow, Rukia, and has sworn to one day kill him. Thing is, Yiratsu is quite a tenacious fighter, and he's managed to hang on by the slightest of threads every time Grimmjow blows him away."

"But why would someone _want_ to pick a fight with Grimmjow?"

Saika shrugged.

"Good question. Why does he want to kill you so badly, Grimmjow? You've never told us the story."

The blue-haired fighter tried to avoid the question, but after all three of them pressed him, he coughed up the answer.

"I slept with his girlfriend."

Saika smirked, while Rukia looked completely unsurprised and Ulquiorra smacked his forehead with his palm.

"Yeah, that'll do it."

"Classy, Grimmjow."

"You disgust me."

"Hey, hey!" Grimmjow shouted, defensive. "_She_ came onto _me_, damnit! And it wasn't even worth it anyway, that bitch is crazy."

"Whatever you say, man. Just get him up here so that Rukia can master _bankai_ and we can spend tomorrow training with it."

Grimmjow looked like he wanted to strangle Saika, but he closed his eyes and reached out through the reiatsu pathways, looking for the demon. While that was going on, Saika erected a powerful barrier and let Rukia inside it, sealing off the entrance afterwards.

"Good luck."

Rukia smiled, but said nothing as she drew her sword and settled into a stance, waiting for her opponent.

"Here he comes," Grimmjow called out, and a hole opened up within the barrier. Rukia almost gagged at the stench and the dark reiatsu, but she kept her cool. Soon enough a disheveled, lanky man stepped out of the rift, a sword with a serrated edge and no sheath hanging by his side.

"Who the hell are you?" he snarled, a feral look in his eyes that kicked Rukia's adrenaline into overdrive. "Where's that bastard Grimmjow?"

"My parents were married when I was born, fucker!"

Yiratsu's head whipped over to stare at Grimmjow through the barrier, but no matter how many times or how desperately he pounded on the wall, it wouldn't give. Rukia got fed up with watching the pathetic display and let her reiatsu out in a pulse, grabbing Yiratsu's attention.

"Who're you, woman?"

"My name is Rukia Kuchiki," she said sternly, "and I'm going to be the one who kills you."

Yiratsu waited for a moment as the words sunk in, and then he began to laugh manically.

"You?! You, kill me? Hahahaha, stupid cur, that's not possible. What can someone like you possibly do to someone like…"

"Hakuren!"

This time, rather than a large, unfocused rush of ice, a single, concentrated blade shot out from the edge of Rukia's sword as she swung it, cutting off Yiratsu's right arm. The demon clutched the stump and wailed, while the three men outside the cube looked on eagerly.

"Do you really think she's got it in her, Saika?"

Aron smiled.

"Unless Yiratsu starts taking her seriously, she might not even have to use _bankai_ at this rate. Pathetic. And to think he used to be one of my 3rd ranked officers… what was I smoking?"

"Well, there's no accounting for taste."

"Will you two shut up?" Ulquiorra said, the rare display of emotion stunning the other two into silence.

"What's with him?" Grimmjow asked, and Saika just shrugged. Meanwhile, back in the barrier, Yiratsu had just gotten to his feet, practically foaming at the mouth.

"You… you bitch!"

"Are slurs the only things your pitiful mind can come up with? Stop moaning and fight me!"

"Die!"

The demon charged blindly at his opponent, rage giving him tunnel vision. Rukia just waited for the right moment and, smirking, sidestepped his rush while swinging her sword at the same time. The bottom half of Yiratsu fell to the grass while the top part kept going, landing a few paces away. Rukia wiped the blood off of her zanpakuto and sheathed it, finally exhaling. Just as she began to walk toward the exit, though, a sinister cackle forced her to turn back around.

"You think this is over, woman?" Yiratsu seethed, having finally reached the spot where his lower body had fallen. "This isn't even close to the end!"

Rukia watched in mute horror as the two halves joined together again to become whole, the grizzly sequence ending with the demon rising to his feet and drawing his sword.

"You got a lucky shot off on me when I wasn't thinking, Kuchiki harlot," he spat, "but I won't make the same mistake twice. Now come, and I will show you my true power!"

A fierce blast of reiatsu almost knocked Rukia over as the demon tapped into his energy, and she kicked herself for thinking it would be that easy.

_Well, Shirayuki_, she thought, _this is it. Are you ready?_

The zanpakuto pulsed, its killing intent razor sharp.

_Whenever you are, Rukia_.

Rukia noticed that her zanpakuto had finally called her by her first name, and she smiled.

"Then let's end this!"

* * *

If there was one thing that you could not be if you desired to rule over something as vile and unruly as Hell, it was a fool. Mortos, Baron of the 8th Circle, was most definitely not a fool. Looking down into his own private Seeing Pool, Mortos observed the cocky, newly-promoted General Aizen relishing in some kind of private victory.

"No doubt you plan to assassinate me, you pathetic human whelp," the Baron growled in a voice that would have made Barragan cower.

"Unfortunately for you, I do not die so easily. You will not be the first to have tried so foolish an action, and you will certainly not be the first to succeed, Sosuke Aizen."

With that declaration, Mortos turned around to look at the wall behind him and laughed loudly: on it were mounted all the heads of those who had tried to take his life in ages past, and a spot had just been carved out for Aizen.

* * *

"Mail call!"

There was a crash in one of the rooms, followed by a yelp from Yachiru and some rather choice expletives courtesy of Kenpachi Zaraki. Yourichi couldn't help but smile at the haggard face of the grumpy captain, who was obviously very pissed at having been woken up so abruptly in the dead of night.

"Whoever you are, I'm gonna kill you _so_ dead…" he mumbled, not seeing who exactly was in front of him.

"You'd have to catch me first, Kenpachi," Yourichi shot back with a smirk.

Zaraki's visible eye snapped open at the sound of her voice and he froze in his tracks, not sure what to make of the scene in front of him.

"Yoruichi? What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"Running an errand for a particularly overworked captain," she answered, "and I also have some questions for you."

Kenpachi looked confused for a moment, but then his face cleared up and he smiled sadly.

"No doubt they're about the ceremony for your dearly departed lieutenant in a few days?"

"Why haven't you ever gone, Kenpachi? In all of these years, I've never seen your face even once!"

"I could say the same for you, kitten."

Yoruichi's eyes went wide at that, but then she regained her composure.

"I was there," she said softly, a trace of guilt in her voice, "I was just there after everyone else had left, because I didn't want to get found out. What's your excuse, Zaraki?"

Kenpachi shrugged.

"I never saw the point of mourning someone who wasn't dead. It's a waste of energy."

"What!?"

The 11th Division Captain stayed perfectly unmoved in the face of Yoruichi's outburst and waited for her to calm down before he continued.

"Just answer this one question, Shihoin. Did you ever see Saika actually die?"

"Yes, damn it!" Yoruichi shouted, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "I saw him get dragged down to Hell, you bastard!"

"But _did you see him die_?"

Yoruichi had relived that moment in so many nightmares that recalling it now was as effortless as breathing. There was the Hollow, at least an adjuchas if not higher. Byakuya was seriously injured, and the Hollow was diving in for the killing blow when, all of a sudden, Saika dove in front of him and took the hit, like the noble, kind person and complete fucking idiot that he was. The rest of the sound was drowned out by the echoing of her own screams in her ears, but Yoruichi could see that Saika still had the strength to land the killing blow against the Hollow despite his own wound.

Or at least, that's what it had looked like. The beast was still alive, and before she and Byakuya could get their friend to safety, the adjuchas grabbed him and was pulled down into Hell, carrying Saika along for the ride. Releasing one last incredible pulse of reiatsu, the orange-eyed lieutenant had managed to slow time to a crawl and look his friends in the eye, tacitly saying goodbye. Right before he had plunged completely under, he had tossed Yoruichi his zanpakuto, and sent her a message through the connection between their reiatsu.

"_I'll be back for this, Yoru. Keep it safe._"

And like that, he was gone.

But Zaraki had a point, no matter how twisted and improbable it sounded: Saika could still be alive, despite residing in Hell. She looked deep into Kenpachi's eyes and replied.

"No, I didn't actually see him die. But what's your point, Kenpachi?"

"I'm just saying that if there's one person I knew who could survive in a place like that and possibly muscle his way out of there, it would be Saika Aron. He and I weren't friends by any stretch of the imagination, but I'd be lying if I said he was anything less than the most tenaciously intense opponent I've ever fought, and that includes Ichigo. That guy was one crazy son of a bitch."

Yoruichi smiled sadly, her eyes looking through the wall behind Zaraki and deep into the past.

"He was something else, wasn't he?"

* * *

_Several Years Ago_

Yoruichi and Saika raced each other to the 1st Rukon District, a competition that Yoruichi won, but not by as much as she'd expected. As they stood in front of the Great Wall, the young man with orange eyes could only marvel at how impressive the structure was. Yoruichi let him stare for a few moments, a smile on her face at his display of childlike wonder, before she snapped her fingers right next to his ear to get his attention.

"Yah!" he shouted, jumping sideways and clutching his ear.

"What the heck was that for?"

The Shihoin princess laughed.

"If you're that stunned by the walls, we're gonna be in the Seireitei for hours and hours unless you stay focused. Let's get going, eh?"

Yoruichi took the lead when they approached Jidanbou, but when the giant saw Saika standing there, he was shocked.

"It can't be," he said, "but you look so much like him… are you the son of Ryu Aron, young man?"

Saika bit his tongue until it bled, but he kept his tone under control.

"Yes, I am. My name is—"

"Saika, did you honestly think I'd forget you?" Jidanbou asked, indignant. "Why, I remember when you were just a baby. Your mother, spirits rest her soul, just could stop showing you around the Seireitei. She saved me from an awful sickness once, many years ago, but I never had the chance to thank her…"

Jidanbou's voice drifted off as he reminisced about the past, but he had opened the gate and so Yoruichi walked towards it, preparing herself for another long, boring stay as captain, chock full of bureaucracy, politics and talk. When she noticed that Saika wasn't walking behind her, though, she turned and saw that he was just standing there, a sad look on his face.

"Oi, Saika, what's wrong?" Yoruichi was getting a little annoyed; if she had to keep babysitting this kid…

He looked over at her and blinked, shaking his head to clear it with a sigh.

"Nothing, nothing," he said, not convincing anyone. "I was thinking about my mother, that's all. Let's get going."

Yoruichi felt bad about being angry with someone for remembering a dead loved one, but still, everything had its place and its time. Getting too engrossed in the past kept you from enjoying the present, and life was too short for that. The pair walked leisurely through the wide streets of the Seireitei, taking the time to get to know each other a bit better. After all, Saika reasoned, if they were going to be working together, it would be best if they got along. Yoruichi assumed that, like all males, Aron had an ulterior motive for wanting to get to know her, but she let it slide. In all fairness, he did have a point.

"Really? Byakuya recommended me to you? That was awfully charitable of him."

Yoruichi snorted.

"Trust me, Saika, when Byakuya does anything, it's never out of charity. Ever. He recommended you to me because you have talent and the capability to succeed, not because he was throwing you a bone like a dog."

"So you think I'm talented, huh?" he asked with a grin Yoruichi would come to know so well, a slight gleam in his eyes. Shihoin shook her head and chuckled.

"You're all the same," she answered, but when she looked over at her companion again, she noticed that his attention was riveted elsewhere. She looked over and saw what had caught his eye: two men in Soul Reaper clothes were having a fight, but it seemed rather one-sided and the loser was taking a bunch of hard blows.

"What the hell did you think you were doing, spilling that tea on me? You 4th Squad rat, I should string you up and beat some respect into you!"

Saika saw that the meathead's insignia was that of the 11th Squad, 3rd seat, and his eyes narrowed. He took off before Yoruichi could stop him, blocking the next punch with his forearm. The 11th Squad soldier was not amused, to say the least.

"What do you think you're doing, peasant?"

Saika's face held no trace of the friendliness that had been so apparent around Yoruichi; his eyes were as hard as the steel of his zanpakuto.

"I could ask you the same question, prick. Beating up on someone who can't even fight back? What's the matter, you compensating for something?"

"Why you little…"

The 3rd seat made to draw his zanpakuto with his free hand, but Saika kneed him in the gut and grabbed away his sword, tossing it over onto the ground. The 4th Squad soldier, astonished at his good fortune, mumbled a hasty thanks to his protector and sped on down the road, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. The 3rd seat, meanwhile, had picked up his sword and began to advance on Saika, his pride stinging and rage clouding his head. Smiling hungrily, Aron tossed his zanpakuto to Yoruichi, who snatched it out of the air. The Shihoin princess was sure that Saika knew what he was doing, but she couldn't keep her heart from beating a bit faster than normal.

Right before the 3rd seat brought his sword down and split Saika in two like a fish, the orange-eyed fighter released a pulse of his reiatsu on full blast.

Yoruichi reeled as it hit her; she had only felt something on par with this once, and that was from Kenpachi Zaraki, captain of the 11th Squad. The 3rd seat, who was completely unprepared for something like this, sunk to the floor like a sack of bricks, stammering for mercy. Saika responded by letting up his reiatsu, but was far from done with humiliating this guy.

"How does it feel to be on the other end?" he said, his voice as malicious as Yoruichi had heard it. When the blubbering wreck didn't respond, he grabbed the front of his uniform and hauled him to his feet.

"I asked you a question, you worthless coward. How does it feel to be on the other end, helpless, as someone without an ounce of restraint pounds away at you? I bet it doesn't feel very good, does it? Answer me!"

"N—No!"

"Thought not, asshole" Saika spat, before throwing the guy so hard he left in imprint in the concrete wall. Exhaling, he walked back over to a gaping Yoruichi and took back his zanpakuto.

"Overkill much, kid?"

Aron shrugged.

"He had it coming."

Yoruichi couldn't really argue with that, but she was still disturbed by the sudden change in demeanor that Saika had exhibited. Raw power was one thing, but if he let it control him instead of the other way around…

"I see some things will never change, my friend," a new voice spoke out, and Saika turned to behold a much older, more careworn version of a very familiar face. As much as he wanted to be relaxed around his friend, though, he understood the principles of formality. Bowing low, he greeted the new arrival.

"Lord Kuchiki," he said, rising again. "What an unexpected surprise."

"Not quite," Byakuya replied, the hint of a smile on his face. "That pulse of reiatsu you let go just now could have woken up the dead. I wouldn't be surprised if the other captains are calling a meeting right now, trying to figure out just what that was."

Saika smiled.

"But you knew."

"Like I said," Byakuya replied, a rare smirk gracing his face, "some things will never change. Now, shall we go explain to Commander Yamamoto that the explosion of reiatsu was not an adjuchas, but rather an impetuous brat who couldn't keep his reiatsu under control?"

Saika's smile grew into a grin.

"You're rather chipper today, Lord Kuchiki. What, dare I ask, is the occasion?"

"I met my wife last night," he said, flashing a grin of his own before the three of them vanished.

* * *

_Present Day_

"He never did have good control, that kid. Especially when he was trying to impress you."

Yoruichi smiled at that, remembering fondly the ridiculous grins her lieutenant would flash her whenever he had done something he so maturely phrased as 'totally awesome.'

"You got that right."

Zaraki stretched out and popped his back into place, groaning.

"Well, this has been nice and all," he said, "but would you be so kind as to go away, so that I can get at least an hour of sleep?"

Yoruichi nodded, said her goodbyes, and walked towards the door. Right before she left, though, Kenpachi called out to her.

"Did he ever tell you?"

She looked back over her shoulder, a quizzical look in her eye.

"Tell me what?"

Zaraki shook his head ruefully.

"Never mind. If he didn't tell you, he obviously had a reason."

Yoruichi turned around all the way to face the captain and squared her shoulders.

"You can't just leave me hanging like that, Kenpachi. Did he ever tell me _what_?"

The 11th Division captain heaved an uncharacteristic sigh.

"If I tell you, you'll probably hate me forever."

"Just…say…it."

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Shihoin felt her heart speed up in her chest…

"Saika was in love with you."

Her heart might just as well have exploded. Looking like she'd just been gored by a 2-ton rhinoceros, the golden-eyed princess staggered out of the room and flashed away, the pile of mail in disarray on the floor.

"Told you so," Zaraki said as he walked back to his bed and passed out.

Yoruichi appeared on the roof of the 2nd Division Headquarters, where she and Saika had spent so many nights looking at the stars. Now, in light of Kenpachi's revelation, his demeanor during those moments was so painfully obvious to figure out. Back then, though, she had willfully ignored it because, in the deepest recesses of her heart, she knew she returned his feelings. But she was afraid, too scared to admit it because it had been so foreign to her at the time, and because she was already betrothed to someone else. But if he had just said something, _anything_, to show her how he had felt it would have made all the difference in the world…

To devastated to scream, Yoruichi simply let rip a massive pulse of reiatsu, hoping that wherever Saika was, living or dead, he would hear the one thought raging within her soul:

"_Why didn't you just tell me?!_"

* * *

Back in the mysterious dojo, Ichigo and Renji were still slugging it out with the creature that seemed to be a combination of their two _bankai_. After what felt like a whole day of fighting, all three warriors were near the end of their endurance. The creature seemed to know every technique of Renji and Ichigo's _bankai_, and used them with impunity. It was a miracle that they had fought this well, but the two friends knew they couldn't keep it up for much longer. Just as he was about to give up hope, though, Renji thought of an idea so crazy that it just might work. He had noticed that the weird creature could channel the energies of the Getsuga Tensho through the sword made of bones, producing an even stronger blast as a result. The next time they had a respite from the fighting, Renji told Ichigo his idea and Ichigo grinned, the fighting spirit surging back into his veins.

"We'll only have one shot. Try not to screw it up, Kurosaki."

"It's not me I'm worried about, pineapple."

Renji was about to reply, but a Getsuga Tensho blast ripped their cover out from under them. Ichigo readied himself one last time and shouted.

"Now!"

"Hikotsu Tiaho!"

"Getsuga Tensho!"

The dark wave of the Getsuga Tensho surrounded the creature that was Renji's _bankai_, being absorbed by it and channeled into its own attack. The resulting blast was terrifyingly power, blowing the back clean off of the massive structure and obliterating the mysterious enemy. As it disappeared, the energy that had composed it reformed to make a spirit gate, pulsing with dark energy. After catching their breath and waiting for their energy to return after such a draining attack, the two Soul Reapers looked at the gate warily.

"Do you think we should…"

"I mean, I don't see why not…"

"It _does_ look pretty scary, though."

"Would you rather deal with the scary gate or a furious Captain Kuchiki?"

Renji's eyes widened.

"Good point. Let's hurry."

Looking at the sunlight and the blue sky one last time for good measure, the pair rushed through the infernal rift, ready to cut through anything on the other side.

* * *

"C'mon, woman! At least try to make this fun for me!"

Rukia was fighting with all of her strength, but no matter what she did she couldn't find a way to put Yiratsu down for good. Every time she landed a solid cut, he simply repaired what had been damaged and kept on coming. Now completely on the defensive, Rukia was frantically blocking every strike, afraid that the blade would shatter at any moment. As the next blow landed and began to cut through Sode no Shirayuki, Rukia closed her eyes and waited for the end.

* * *

When the pain did not come, though, she hesitantly opened her eyes and found herself in her spirit world, an icy plain stretching as far as the eyes could see. A snowstorm pelted furiously down on the plain, obscuring the sky.

"You do not trust me, Rukia."

Rukia looked over to see a woman standing next to her, dressed in a robe of the purest white dotted with shimmering crystals of ice. She turned to face the young Kuchiki, her white eyes sad.

"Even after all we have been through, as close as we have become, you still do not have faith in my ability to defend you."

"That's not true!"

"Then why are you afraid of me shattering?"

Rukia became indignant, but couldn't think of a reply because, well, there wasn't one.

"My point exactly, Rukia," the spirit of her blade continued. "You must trust me with your life, as I trust you with mine. I will defend you against all harm, if you will only focus your heart and soul completely on piercing those who would bring us down. Rukia, I will only ask you this one more time. Do you trust me?"

The Soul Reaper's face became calm and focused, her eyes truly clear and sharp, utterly devoid of fear, for the first time in her life.

"Absolutely."

Sode no Shirayuki gave her a radiant smile, and the sky became clear once again.

"Then prove it to me."

* * *

Saika sensed the massive spike in Rukia's reiatsu and grinned from ear to ear.

"Grimmjow, take down the barrier," he ordered. "I want to see this."

The blue cube evaporated right as Rukia forced Yiratsu back with a mighty swing of her blade, giving her just enough space to unleash her…

"_Bankai!_"

Sode no Shirayuki floated in front of Rukia for the briefest of moments before shattering completely, covering its wielder in a cloud of ice particles.

"Wait, isn't a _bankai_ supposed to be a good thing?"

"Just watch, Grimmjow," Aron insisted with a smirk.

Suddenly all of the particles converged on Rukia, a blast of reiatsu emanating when the transformation was finished. When the smoke cleared, Rukia was wearing a cloak of the purest white that froze the ground it touched and a breastplate of armor underneath that, crowned in the center by a glimmering shard of ice.

"Inverno Furioso!"

Yiratsu was taken aback by the sheer force of her reiatsu for a moment, but when he saw she had no sword he began laughing madly.

"What? _That's_ your _bankai_? You don't have a sword anymore, you dumb whore! How're you going to kill me, huh?"

Rukia shifted into a battle stance, giving her opponent a look that suddenly made him very sorry he'd ever insulted her.

"Sode no Shirayuki is my armor," she said, reaching out with her sword arm, "and the water is my blade."

Rukia flexed her hand and the water vapor in the air condensed into a gleaming, razor-sharp katana made of pure ice. Yiratsu raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Really? That's it?"

Suddenly Rukia vanished, reappearing behind Yiratsu. A moment later, his arm froze solid and shattered. When he tried to regenerate it, though, he failed.

"What did you do, woman?!"

Rukia chuckled, turning to face her enemy.

"Weren't you listening? This," she said, raising her ice katana, "is not my blade. The water is. _All of it_."

Comprehension dawned on Yiratsu and his eyes widened as Rukia raised her free hand and prepared the finishing blow.

"Oh, shi—"

"Distruzione Blanco!"

A thick cloud of water vapor swarmed all around the hapless demon, encasing its prey in ice before splintering into countless fragments. No trace of the demon's reiatsu remained in the aftermath. Rukia relaxed and surrendered her _bankai_, reforming Sode no Shirayuki and sheathing it. Saika stepped forward, clapping his hands.

"Well done, Kuchiki," he praised, "well done indeed! Now," he said, stopping his clapping and drawing his sword,

"We make it stronger."

* * *

**Author's Note**: All right, so some pieces have moved into place and others are well on their way. I hope Rukia's _bankai_ was sufficiently badass, and it'll get stronger the more she trains with it. Ichigo and Renji are finally in Hell, so that should be an exciting journey for them. And what will happen to Aizen's plan for domination now that Mortos is on to it? That's what the next chapter's for! Hope you enjoyed it, and as always, **please review**, it keeps the wheels turning.

**Translation Note**: 'Inverno Furioso': Furious Winter. 'Distruzione Blanco': White Annihilation. I used Italian instead of Japanese, because I can't speak Japanese, while Italian is another story.


	7. Pandora's Box

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters; Tite Kubo does

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters; Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own my OC, Saika, and any other OCs, big or small, that might show up.

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 7**: Pandora's Box

* * *

Rukia had been fighting nonstop against Grimmjow and Saika for the last twelve hours, trying to get her _bankai_ as strong as possible before the 'inspection' that was to take place the next day. After she had been battled to the point of exhaustion, her two sensei gave her a ten-minute respite from training. As Rukia sat on a rock and looked up at the roiling, fiery sky of Hell, she couldn't help but think about Ichigo and Renji, her two friends who were willing to brave Hell itself to rescue her from that bastard, Callos.

What idiots, she thought, a smile on her face.

Looking over, she was surprised to see Ulquiorra perched on another rock, staring into the distance with an uncharacteristically melancholy expression on his face. Wondering what could have possibly happened to make someone like Ulquiorra get emotional, Rukia flashed over to his rock and sat next to him.

"What's wrong?"

Schiffer didn't turn to face her, but his head dropped down ever so slightly.

"Nothing."

Rukia sighed and crossed her arms petulantly; he wasn't going to get off the hook that easy, or her name wasn't Rukia Kuchiki.

"Don't give me that," she said harshly, and Ulquiorra turned to glace wearily at her as she continued.

"I know something's up with you, Schiffer. Ever since I slashed up your arm a few days ago, you've been so moody even Ichigo seems like a ray of sunshine. Spill it, what's wrong? Wait…" she said, the wheels turning in her head, until her eyes widened.

"You… you don't have a _crush_ on me, do you?"

Ulquiorra laughed bitterly at that, a grating, hollow sound that scraped at Rukia's soul.

"Don't flatter yourself, woman."

"Then what the heck is it? I know it involves me somehow, at least."

The former fourth Espada realized that the prattling female next to him was never going to shut up unless he gave her something to chew on, so he gathered himself and spoke.

"You remind me of someone I knew once, that's all. She was… she was my friend, the only one I had."

Ulquiorra kicked himself mentally for talking so much, but the words had just tumbled out before he could stop them. Damn it, not having fought in a while had obviously made him soft.

"What was her name?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"Because she's dead," Ulquiorra said flatly. "Word was that bastard Nnoitra killed her, but we could never pin it on him and Aizen didn't really care. The Espada are replaceable by nature, after all."

Rukia thought about the things Schiffer had just told her and came to a conclusion soon enough, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"You don't mean Nel-Tu, do you?"

Ulquiorra looked up at her in shock.

"How do you know that name?"

"Because… well, it's a long story, but I can tell you for sure that she's not dead. She's alive."

A strange look came into Ulquiorra's eyes in that moment, and Rukia had a hard time figuring out what it was until she realized that it was hard to understand because it seemed so out of place:

He was hopeful. Truly, genuinely hopeful that what she'd said was true. Rukia didn't know what the history between the two Espada had been, but one thing was for sure.

"So you do have a heart after all," she said, smiling.

Ulquiorra's eyes became cold again, his mask perfectly back in place.

"Don't push it, woman."

"Oi, Kuchiki! Stop hitting on Ulquiorra and haul your ass back here! We have work to do!"

"Yes, sensei Grimmjow," she said wearily, flashing away right after she had glanced back at Ulquiorra's face, which was now adorned with the thinnest of smiles.

* * *

They had fazed her at first, to be honest, but Neliel was used to the stares she got by now. The whispers were a bit harder to ignore, but she grit her teeth and bore with it.

"Freak."

"Monster."

"Demon."

The green-haired arrancar let herself relax once she was within the confines of the 12th Squad's lab, pounding a dent into the steel wall with her fist.

"Something wrong, Nel-san?" Nemu Kurotsuchi's voice floated over from the far end of the room and the former 3rd Espada blushed in embarrassment.

"Oh, no, nothing's wrong," she said with a forced smile, trying not to make it too awkward. "I was just wondering if I could use one of your computers for a while, Nemu-san."

"Of course," she said, bowing respectfully and abdicating the terminal she was using. Neliel sat down, punching in an all-too-familiar command and waiting.

After the War, Neliel, who was caught in a grey area legally due to being both a sympathizer and an arrancar, was given a position within the Seireitei as a freelance operative. After training hard with Ichigo to find a way to maintain her adult form, Nel had excelled in her duties to such a degree that there was talk of making her a seated officer. Far from being good news, though, this had just made her life a living hell as rumors and whispered hatred abounded. There was only one place she really felt safe outside of Ichigo's company, and that was here, in the cocooning darkness of the laboratory, hunched over a flickering computer screen.

Looking for someone. Someone who, once, had meant a great deal to her. Someone she had called a friend.

* * *

"Just… promise me you'll keep your distance from Nnoitra."

Neliel raised a single eyebrow in curiosity, her tone mildly amused.

"Are you concerned for my safety, Ulquiorra? Such emotions are surprising, coming from you."

"You saved my life once, Sir," Ulquiorra replied. "I'm just doing what I can to repay that debt."

"Are you sure there's nothing more to it?" Nel asked, moving closer to the Fourth Espada with a mischievous look in her eyes. Ulquiorra just stared at her, green eyes steely as ever.

"I don't know what you mean, Sir."

Nel stepped back and crossed her arms, glowering at the man in front of her.

"I was just giving you a hard time, Ulquiorra," she said. "And don't call me 'Sir'; that just feels weird. My name's Neliel, in case you've forgotten. But in regards to Nnoitra Jiruga, I have nothing to fear from him. Not only do I outrank him by two numbers, he is a spineless coward. He might huff and puff about how much he hates me, but I guarantee you that he will never have the guts to move against me as long as he knows I can strike back."

Ulquiorra sighed.

"That's what bothers me. Haven't you noticed how he's been looking at you lately? Like a cat toying with a trapped mouse. He's planning something, and I don't know what, but I know it'll end poorly for you if you're not careful. Please, Nel, just watch your back."

The third Espada looked at Ulquiorra with quiet awe.

"What's made you so passionate all of a sudden? I thought you were supposed to be the cold, tactical one, Schiffer."

Ulquiorra reined himself back in at once, but he couldn't keep a shard of urgency out of his voice.

"There is a great level of discontent among the Espada," he said, analytical once more, "and I do not know how long the ten of us will be able to hold together, even with Aizen commanding us. All I'm saying is that things are going to get violent around here sooner rather than later, and an ally is a good thing to have in troubled times."

Nel smiled, placing a hand gently on Ulquiorra's shoulder. He jerked at the contact, but did not pull away.

"I appreciate your concern, Ulquiorra," she said firmly, "but I'll be fine." Her voice softened the slightest bit.

"Trust me."

"As you wish, Sir," he said curtly, turning around and leaving without looking back.

A few days later, Nnoitra strode into the main chamber, all swagger and blood and thunder. Ulquiorra's heart began to beat faster and faster as he saw the vicious grin on Jiruga's face, but he kept his face calm. He could not afford to show concern or weakness, not in front of the other Espada.

"Well, I have some good news, and some more good news!" Nnoitra called out. "First bit of good news is, that weak whore Neliel is dead. Second bit of good news is…"

Ulquiorra's eyes widened for a moment before narrowing to slits, focusing all of his rage on the Fifth Espada. As images of the Third Espada's prone corpse flashed through his mind, the Fourth Espada carved out a resolution within his soul. Never again would he attach himself emotionally to anyone, or make any kind of sacrifice to aid anyone other than his master, Aizen. From here on out, Ulquiorra Schiffer was a lone wolf.

* * *

Back in the Soul Society lab, Nel shook her head and sighed, taking another pull on the bottle of sake.

"For what it's worth, Ulquiorra," she said, "wherever you are, I'm sorry I didn't take your advice."

* * *

"What kind of monsters d'you think we'll find down here, Ichigo?"

"Hard to say. This isn't Hueco Mundo, so I doubt there'll be Hollows. I guess we'll find out when something tries to kill us."

"Cheery as ever, Kurosaki," Renji groused as the two friends walked through the blackened landscape, heading towards a massive, walled city that looked like a corrupted Seireitei.

"That's where they're keeping her, you think?"

"Yep. I just hope it doesn't take as long to get to as Las Noches, or we might not get to Rukia in time."

"We'll make it, Ichigo. We can't _not_ make it, and you know that. She's counting on us."

"Yeah, I bet she is," Kurosaki replied, his thoughts wandering to Rukia. After a while Renji got sick of the lovestruck look in Ichigo's eyes and smacked him.

"Ouch! What the hell, Renji?"

"We have to stay focused, Ichigo, and we can't do that if you're off daydreaming about Rukia!"

"Well, I'm sorry I care about her so much, Renji! Maybe you should try it sometime!"

"What are you implying, asshole?"

"Why, you little—"

The two warriors were so busy growling at each other that they didn't notice the pack of three-headed dogs stalking them until their barks filled the air and they charged.

"Oh…"

"Shit."

It took a good ten minutes to subdue them all, and by the time the last sword-stroke had fallen, Ichigo and Renji were the embodiments of battle-scared warriors, covered in blood and grime, drawing in ragged breaths as their lungs burned and smiling with a berserker's glee. The silence of their victory was soon broken, however, by a voice coming from some nearby rocks.

"Most impressive," it said. "It's been a long, long time since I've seen an unblemished soul down here, much less a pair of veteran Soul Reapers. You must be here on some pressing mission, no?"

"Show yourself!" Renji shouted, and the voice chuckled.

"So I can't be even the slightest bit mysterious? You're no fun."

The owner of the voice stepped out from the shadow of the rocks, revealing a young man about their age with brown hair and a single blue eye shining out from a weathered face, an eye-patch covering the other socket. He wore a uniform not unlike a Soul Reaper's, and a katana was stuck in his sash.

"My name is Marcus," he said, bowing slightly.

"That's an odd name," Renji commented. "Where're you from, originally?"

"I can't remember, to be honest with ya. A few centuries of this damn place'll wipe every pleasant memory from your mind."

"What are you doing all the way out here?" Ichigo asked, curious as to why anyone would venture outside the walls of the city in the distance.

"I'm on a routine scouting mission for my commander, General Aron. Well, technically, he's not a general anymore, but that's a long story."

"We don't have time for stories, Marcus," Renji insisted. "We need to get to that city as soon as possible."

Marcus' eyebrow rose in surprise.

"Why in the name of all that is holy would you ever want to go there on purpose? That place is lethal for people like you; outsiders, and especially living souls, get torn to shreds by the mobs of the damned."

"We have no choice, man," Ichigo said. "We have to get in there and rescue a friend of ours, Rukia Kuchiki."

Marcus' blue eye shot wide open at the mention of that name and he staggered back, bracing himself on some rocks.

"Rukia Kuchiki?" he repeated. "Tell me you're not serious."

"Why? Where is she? What happened to her?!"

"She's the crown prince's new bride-to-be," Marcus explained, and Ichigo looked like he'd just been shot. "Going up against him is suicide, friend, no matter who you are!"

Renji saw that Ichigo wasn't going to be speaking in complete sentences for a while, so he stepped up and pleaded instead.

"Trust me, Marcus, we've been up against suicidal odds before, and we're still standing. Ichigo and I need to get to Rukia as soon as possible, and we don't care who we have to kill to do it."

The one-eyed scout looked at the red-haired warrior with newfound respect and smiled.

"Well, from one fighter to another, I have no doubt that you could probably get pretty far into the city. But there's no way you could get into the place where she's being held without some kind of permission from one of the higher-ups. That," he continued with a twinkle in his eye, "or you could just sneak in. And it so happens that I have a portable gateway that we scouts use for transportation that I'd be more than happy to let you two use. That is, provided you promise me one thing."

"Which is?"

"If you ever get out of here alive, take me with you."

Renji smiled.

"Consider it done."

* * *

"Balthazar!"

"Yes, General Aron?"

Saika sighed.

"Damn it, man, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? I'm not a general anymore."

"With all due respect, sir," the messenger said, "there are many people I know who would disagree with you. The loyalty of your men does not rise and fall on Mortos' whims, or those of his son."

Aron grinned wolfishly, his eyes gleaming.

"I know that, Balthazar. That's why I need you to round up every single one of my ranked officers who will still follow me and bring them here, as quickly as you can. The time is nearing for us to make our move."

"Oh, and bring me some beer, too."

"Grimmjow, now isn't the time for you to be boozing. You have someone to train, don't you?"

"Well, boss, the way I see it, it'll be much more interesting if I can't control myself completely."

"That'll just make it easier for me to kick your ass, Jaegerjaques!"

Grimmjow looked over at Rukia and snarled.

"Do you want me to actually _try_ and kill you, Kuchiki?!"

Rukia bowed her head.

"No, sir."

The former sixth Espada grinned.

"Thought not. Now wipe that pathetic look off your face and let's get back to work."

"With pleasure," the Soul Reaper replied, smiling as images of a beaten-up, broken Callos danced through her head. Soon it would be time for the 'inspection', after all, and she needed to be strong enough to impress him.

Balthazar bowed low, promising to obey the order before vanishing. Ulquiorra, who was hunched over some maps, suddenly snapped to attention.

"That reiatsu… it's Kurosaki."

Both Grimmjow and Rukia stopped fighting, excited for completely different reasons. Rukia was about to cry she was so happy, and Grimmjow couldn't wait to give that strawberry some payback.

"Man, they got here fast, didn't they? He must really love you, Kuchiki," Saika said, while Rukia just blushed.

_Ichigo…_

Maybe the day was looking brighter, after all.

* * *

"Hey, Ichigo, can I talk to ya for a second? Alone?"

Ichigo thought it was odd that Renji was whispering so urgently, but he nodded and slowed his pace, trailing behind their guide until they were out of earshot.

"What's up, Renji?"

"Don't you think this has been a little too easy, man?"

"What'd you mean?"

"Come on, don't be an idiot. There's no way a place like this would be so easy to sneak in to. You had to use a freaking artillery bombardment to break into the Seireitei, after all."

"But I did use that underground passage to sneak all the way to the tower, didn't I?"

"And I was waiting for you _right there_, remember? Because I knew you were coming! Can't you see, Ichigo? This thing reeks of a setup, and we're gonna get screwed!"

"Jeez, why can't you just take a good thing as it is for once, Renji?"

"Because I'm not a stubborn idiot like you, maybe?"

"You son of a—"

Marcus heard the bickering behind him and smirked; this was almost too easy. Even if the moron with the red hair was suspicious, it was too late for them to do anything to save themselves. He'd already alerted the Kill Squad to his location, and they were never defeated. Right on cue, A man appeared in the alley next to him and Marcus stopped.

"You have done well, soldier," the man said.

"Hey, this wasn't easy for me, you know. Aron-sama is a good man, and I betrayed him. I just want my reward, and I'm out of here. My family; tell me they're safe."

"About that… your wife and daughter were crucified this morning, I'm afraid."

"What?! You mother—argh!"

Marcus' curse was cut short as a sword ran through his chest, blood spattering the wall opposite him as he fell. Ichigo and Renji turned sharply towards the commotion and saw Marcus hit the ground, but immediately after that a phalanx of hooded figures emerged out of thin air, blocking the view completely in front of, and behind them.

"You are intruders," they said in disturbing unison. "You are unwelcome. If you do not leave at once, you will die."

The two friends assumed battle stances back-to-back, ready to fight and die.

"We aren't going anywhere, you bastards."

The two ranks of enemies drew their swords, the sound of drawn steel ringing in the air.

"So be it."

* * *

"The Kill Squad…"

"What'd you just say, Grimmjow?"

"Somone sicced the dogs on your boyfriend and that Abarai guy, Rukia," Saika elaborated. "My guess is, Callos got word they were coming and set a trap."

Rukia's eyes widened in horror.

"I have to go help them!"

She made to flash-step away, but Saika was faster and held her in place.

"Stop."

"But…"

"I can't let you go alone."

"How could you just let them die?!"

Aron looked Rukia dead in the eye, as serious as she'd ever seen him.

"I never said I couldn't let you go period, you idiot. I said I couldn't let you go alone. Don't let your emotions rule you, Kuchiki. Do you understand me?"

Rukia nodded, cursing herself for being so rash. Saika turned to the former sixth Espada.

"Grimmjow, you and Rukia chase down those two as fast as you can."

"Yes, sir."

"Ulquiorra?"

"Yes, Aron-sama?"

"You stay here with me, but be ready to fight; my guess is that as soon as we make a move to protect those two Soul Reapers, Callos is going to take the chance to attack us and brand us as traitors."

"Understood."

As Kuchiki and Jaegerjaques vanished, Saika sunk down into his chair and sighed. Why wasn't life ever easy?

_Because it wouldn't be life if it was._

The words Yoruichi had told him at the end of his first day as 10th Squad captain came rushing back to him now, and he got even more depressed. What he wouldn't give to talk to her right now; she would know exactly what to say to him. She always had.

* * *

"How many of these guys are there, damn it?"

"Just shut up and keep killing them, Renji!"

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?"

"You resistance is meaningless," the group spoke. "We cannot die, and your mortal flesh is all too easily pierced by our blades. Give up now and accept your death honorably, like men."

"Screw you," Ichigo hissed, pulling on his Hollow mask and battling with a renewed frenzy. Renji was beyond feeling pain at this point; his eyes pulsed with reiatsu as he cut through scores of soldiers, barely even hesitating when one of them landed a solid blow on his shoulder. But as valiantly as they fought, the numbers of their enemies seemed limitless and eventually they were back-to-back again, barely holding up their swords.

"Ichigo! Renji!"

The voice Kurosaki thought he might never hear again was as clear and welcome as the first ray of sunlight after a typhoon. Looking up and scarcely believing his eyes, the Substitute Soul Reaper grinned as he saw Rukia flying down towards him. But the smile turned into a confused look and finally a hateful glare when he saw who landed next to his friend.

"Grimmjow…"

The former sixth Espada grinned.

"Long time no see, kid."

Ichigo made to strike at the blue-haired man, but was stopped by Rukia's zanpakuto.

"Rukia… what're you doing?"

"It's a long story, Ichigo, but Grimmjow's on our side now. I know it sounds weird, but you have to trust me."

"But…"

"Ichigo, we don't have time for this!" Rukia shouted, stunning the orange-haired warrior into silence. "Do you trust me, yes or no?"

Ichigo was really confused by this turn of events, but there was no doubt that the person in front of him right now was Rukia. With a glint in his eyes, he smiled.

"Of course I trust you, midget."

"You're such an idiot," she said, retuning his smile. Just as the group rallied together and turned to fight, though, they were confronted by the last person any of them wanted to see.

"Well, this is cute," he said, appraising the situation before him with a smirk. "Two Soul Reapers, a traitorous half-breed and a runaway bride. Don't you make quite the team?"

Grimmjow snarled like a cornered beast and drew his sword.

"Aizen…"

"Please, Grimmjow, don't trifle with me," Aizen said smugly, blasting him with a beam of focused reiatsu. "I'm not here to fight any of you. My orders are merely to retrieve Rukia Kuchiki, and nothing more."

Ichigo laughed harshly.

"So you're the one taking orders now, Aizen? How does it feel to be a messenger boy?"

Sosuke stared daggers at Ichigo for a moment, but then relaxed.

"Boy, you have no idea who you're talking to. In a few days, I'll be lord of this whole plane, and you will soon bow before me."

"I've heard that speech before, on the day that we killed you. What makes you think I'll believe you now?"

Aizen smirked.

"Whether or not you believe me is irrelevant, Ichigo Kurosaki. The fact of the matter is that I'm going to kill you and return Rukia Kuchiki to the person she belongs to, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Over my dead body."

Aizen's smirk widened.

"If that's how you want to do it. _Hado number 90: Black Coffin_."

Rukia screamed as she saw the dark cube enclose Ichigo, and her heart stopped when she heard the cruel hiss of countless blades striking him all at the same time. The sight of his body falling, horribly lacerated and bleeding, was the last thing she saw before Aizen appeared in front of her and knocked her out. The former captain grabbed the young Kuchiki by the neck of her robes and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, glancing nonchalantly at the two people who were looking at him with murder in their eyes.

"Deal with those two, and throw the lot of them in the dungeons when you finish."

"Of course, General Aizen."

Sosuke vanished with Rukia in tow, leaving Renji with nothing left but a heart full of hatred and a soul crying out for vengeance. Grimmjow's face was impassive as he got up, but his eyes had a certain sadness to them. Recalling what Rukia's face had looked like as Ichigo was skewered by the Black Coffin, he sighed mentally as he drew his sword once more.

_And people wonder why I never get involved in relationships…_

The Soul Reaper and former Espada charged, two unlikely allies fighting for a common goal. But they were overwhelmed in time, and the Kill Squad dragged the three men down to the dungeons, as they had been ordered to do.

* * *

"It's done, Prince Callos," Aizen's voice spoke through a reiatsu bridge. "I have Rukia, and the three others are in the dungeons, as per you command."

Callos grinned wickedly, knowing now was as good a time as any to make his move. Flash-stepping to Saika's quarters, he kicked the door down and was not at all surprised by the sight that greeted him.

"So it's armed insurrection now, is it?" he asked, smirking. Saika and Ulquiorra stared at him, swords drawn and waiting for the prince to make the first move. Instead of attacking, Callos began to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Just that you two think you can change anything by attacking me here. I've already won this battle, Saika."

"What do you mean?" Ulquiorra asked, and Callos glanced at him disdainfully.

"I didn't know your dog could speak, Aron. You should tell him it's considered rude for slaves to speak out of turn."

Ulquiorra made to dash forward, but Saika stopped him with his arm.

"What do you mean you've already won, Callos?"

"I sent Aizen to capture my concubine and deal with those other three urchins. The woman is now in my private quarters, and the others are in the dungeons awaiting punishment. Now, the way I see it, this can end one of two ways. You can either lay down your swords and surrender peacefully, or I can have the Kuchiki whore strung up and quartered before I kill both of you."

Ulquiorra and Saika shared a glance, their hatred for the man in front of them overruled by necessity. Taking off their swords, the two warriors tossed them to the prince. Callos smiled.

"Good choice."

* * *

Ichigo awoke groggily, but sat up sharply as the putrid stench of the dungeon shot up his nose. Suddenly pain raced through him in waves, and the memory of being eviscerated by the Black Coffin came surging back to him.

"Don't make any sudden moves, you dumbass," a familiar voice growled from nearby. "If your wounds open up again, you'll probably die. And don't bother thanking me for healing you or anything; it's not like it took me two fucking hours."

Ichigo collapsed back down with an exhausted sigh, waiting for his vision to clear up before attempting any more movements.

"Why are you even here, Grimmjow? And why did you heal me?" he muttered, too tired to be worried by the former Espada's presence. Grimmjow sat down on a bench across from the one Renji was sleeping on and cracked the joint in his neck before speaking.

"Why am I here? I guess I have you to thank for that, Ichigo. Ya see, souls only get sent down to hell if either they're so impure they can't be cleansed, or if the person who separates the soul from the body does so with so much hatred that the soul is tainted by it, sending it to hell. In other words, your hatred towards me for what I did to your girlfriend that one time is what sent me to hell. As for why I healed you? Well, apart from the fact that we'll all need to be at full strength if we want to get out of this shithole alive, I'm pretty sure your girlfriend would castrate me if she found out I let you die."

Ichigo couldn't help but smile at the image of Rukia chasing after Grimmjow with a carving knife, but when his thoughts lingered on Rukia for a few more moments his mouth opened in mute horror.

"Aizen… he took Rukia…"

"So you didn't go blind. That's good, Ichigo."

"What did he want with her, Grimmjow? He said he was taking her to the person she 'belonged to'… what's going on here?"

Grimmjow figured that none of them were going to be going anywhere for a while, so he told Ichigo the story of how he and Ulquiorra had been sent to hell, met up with Saika, and began serving under him as captains. He told Ichigo about the Baron of their circle, Mortos, and his son the crown prince, who was the one that abducted Rukia in the first place. When he finished with the past few days, Ichigo looked at his former enemy with a new level of respect.

"Thank you for doing that for Rukia," he said, but Grimmjow just shook his head.

"Don't thank me, man. 'Was just orders."

Renji woke up with a yawn, reaching instinctively for his zanpakuto and coming up empty.

"Wha—? Where'd our zanpakuto go?"

"My guess is they took 'em to the armory for safekeeping," the former sixth Espada answered. "While those are out of our hands, we don't stand a chance against these fuckers."

Ichigo was about to say something, but there was noise at the iron door that was the entrance to their cell. It swung open with a creak a few moments later, the three occupants shielding their eyes from the sudden influx of light. Two figures were roughly pushed into the cell, and the door swung shut once again. Once Ichigo's eyes readjusted to the darkness, he could see that one of the two new arrivals was Ulquiorra, which meant that the other one was probably Saika Aron.

"I was beginning to wonder when you bastards would show up," Grimmjow joked from his bench.

"Wouldn't miss this for the world, man," Saika replied, sitting on the floor to let Ulquiorra have the last bench. After sitting silent for a moment, the orange-eyed warrior spoke.

"So, you must be Ichigo Kurosaki," he said, and Ichigo sat up.

"Yeah, that's me. You Saika Aron?"

Saika nodded.

"That I am. Saika Aron, former lieutenant of the 2nd Division of the 13 Seireitei Court Squads, later Captain of the 10th Division."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow.

"You were a Soul Reaper? How long ago?"

"I served under Yoruichi Shihoin, and I was a good friend of Byakuya Kuchiki's when we were growing up, if that gives you a frame of reference. Sorry I can't be more specific, but you lose track of time when you've been down here long enough."

"You knew Byakuya when he was a kid? Damn, that must have been a long time ago. What was he like?"

"Completely reckless, totally irresponsible, utterly impulsive and incredibly short-tempered."

Ichigo's eyes widened.

"You sure we're talking about the same Byakuya Kuchiki?"

"Yeah, unless he has an evil twin or something that I don't know about. How's he been lately? Last I saw, he was married and pretty pleased with life."

"Well, about that…"

Ichigo told Saika all about the trials and tribulations Byakuya had been through in the past years, and Aron felt incredibly guilty that he hadn't been able to help his friend through those rough times. When the story was finished, a somber mood hung over the group until a few knocks came on the door and a slat in the bottom opened; it was dinnertime. The five inmates expected gruel of some kind, and were shocked when five plates of gourmet food and a few bottles of sake slid into the cell. A slat of metal in the middle of the door slid open, revealing a pair of concerned brown eyes.

"Sorry I couldn't do any better, Sirs," the man's voice said.

Ulquiorra squinted, trying to figure out who their benefactor was.

"Yoshinara? Is that you?"

"Yes, Captain Ulquiorra, sir! I managed to pull some strings and get the assignment to run food to your cell. Just remember, sir," he finished with a glint in his eye, "you've got friends down here."

"Who was that?" Renji asked in between gulps of noodles.

"Yoshinara Ure, one of my subordinates," Schiffer explained. "If this bit of luck develops into a trend, Sir," he continued, looking over at Saika, "we could be out of here much sooner than expected.

"Let's hope so, my friends. How's about we have a toast, eh? To freedom."

"To freedom!"

"Yeah, let's get hammered!"

"Damn it, Grimmjow…"

* * *

Kisuke Urahara walked into the room wearing his Captain's _haori_, feeling like an amputee who had just, by some miracle, been given back a limb. His current feelings of happiness had no place here, though, so he sobered up and took his place next to Byakuya, across from Ukitake, Shunsui and Yoruichi. The Shihoin princess looked devastated, but she was holding herself together with years of discipline forged in the fires of nobility. Still, there was something about the look in her eyes that cut deeper than usual, and Urahara could only wonder if she had finally figured it out, so many years too late.

"We're waiting on Captain Zaraki," Byakuya said, after five minutes had passed in awkward silence. "I say we give him five more minutes, and then we just start without him."

"Oh, come on, Byakuya-san," Shunsui insisted, "I'm sure he'll be here any minute."

Right on cue, the door swung open to reveal the 11th Squad captain, without Yachiru perched on his shoulder. He stood next to Urahara and across from Yoruichi, who seemed to want to glare at him, but decided not to.

"Shall we begin by paying our respects?" Ukitake said, and Byakuya stepped up to the shrine first.

The memorial to the fallen Soul Reaper was simple, consisting of his two _haori_ and a portrait. His zanpakuto was kept by Yoruichi in a place only she knew of; he had entrusted her with the task of keeping it safe, and she wasn't about to betray that trust.

The ceremony was a simple one and it ended after an hour, but Yoruichi lingered behind, staring mournfully at the simple picture of her former lieutenant. Byakuya saw her distress and walked back to her, standing next to her in a show of moral support. The Shihion princess glanced over at him and smiled thinly, thankful that she wasn't mourning alone. She knew that he was probably doing this as much for himself as for her; after all, Saika had been one of the only people Byakuya called a friend and meant it, but all the same, it was comforting.

They stayed that way for quite some time, thinking of happier memories. But eventually the moon rose, the crickets started to chirp and they went their separate ways.

* * *

Rukia woke up blearily, rubbing her eyes and turning on her side while pulling the bed-sheets closer to her.

Wait… _bed-sheets_?

Bolting upright, she looked around and was astonished to find herself in a room that resembled her quarters back in the Kuchiki Manor, elegantly furnished, well-lit and cozy. But there was no way she was back home, was there?

"Oh, I see you're awake. That's good," a voice came from one of the doors to the room, and Rukia turned to see that a young woman about her physical age had come in. Her voice was soft but surprisingly kind, in a way that reminded Rukia of Inoue. Medium-length chestnut hair framed a dignified, sad face that was completed by a pair of deep blue eyes. She bowed, introducing herself.

"My name is Arina Ure," she said, "and I've been assigned to be your lady-in-waiting. I hope I can perform my duties to your satisfaction, my Lady."

Rukia took a few moments to let everything that had happened to her recently sink in. She had gone to rescue Ichigo, and they were about to fight their way out, but then Aizen came and… damn it!

Arina looked at the young woman in front of her with concern that grew into alarm as she started to weep silently, almost subconsciously.

"My Lady? Are you all right? Why are you crying so?"

Rukia snapped out of it and noticed, to her embarrassment, that tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh, I… I didn't know I was crying," she said, hoping it didn't sound too weak. "Forgive me, Arina."

"There is nothing to forgive, my Lady. Here, take this," she offered, holding out a handkerchief. Rukia accepted it wordlessly, dabbing her eyes and trying to get herself back together. She needed to be strong right now, not bawling like a little kid. Looking over at Arina, she gave her the kindest smile she could muster.

"You can just call me Rukia, Arina," she told her. "That'll work just fine."

Arina bowed gracefully.

"As you wish, My L—Rukia," she corrected herself, blushing slightly before she turned around and made to leave.

"Wait!" Rukia called out, sounding a little more desperate than she would have liked. Arina turned around to face her.

"Yes?"

"Could you stay here for a while?"

"Of course, Rukia," Arina answered kindly, empathizing with the look on the poor girl's face. After all, she had worn a look very similar to it when she had first been bought by the prince and thrown in here, so far from her home and her family. The person who had taught her the way of the Court had been a cruel, miserable old hag, and Arina vowed to herself that she would not treat Rukia the way she herself had been treated. She went to go get some tea, and by the time she had come back, Rukia was out of bed and dressed in a basic gray robe, sitting at a table overlooking the city. Arina came and sat down with her, and they talked until the sun had dipped low in the sky, a cautious smile drifting over Rukia's face whenever she allowed herself to hope that things wouldn't be too bad. All too soon it came time to call it a night, and Arina took her leave. As she was leaving, though, she left Rukia with one last bit of knowledge.

"Your 'inspection' is tomorrow," she said, "but even if that goes favorably, there's still a law that dictates a period of two weeks must pass before the marriage can be performed."

Rukia laughed bitterly.

"That sounds like the grace period before an execution."

Arina smiled in kind; she liked the new arrival much more than the previous airheads.

"Be that as it may, Rukia, that means your friends will have ample time to rescue you."

Kuchiki smiled, but this time it was warm and genuine.

"I guess I hadn't thought about that," she said, settling down on her bed and closing her eyes.

"Thank you, Arina."

"You're welcome, Rukia Kuchiki. May your dreams be pleasant."

* * *

**Author's Note**: You didn't think it'd be _that_ easy, did you? Man, I feel like a jerk for doing that to those guys because, like everyone's favorite fox-faced former-captain Gin Ichimaru, I hate it when stories get sad. However, just because it's dark now does not mean there isn't a dawn on the way. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and **please review**; it really helps with the inspiration facet of the writing process.

Next chapter will focus on Ichigo and Co.'s time in jail, as well as their plans to get out. Also, what's Aizen up to now, and what do Callos and Mortos think about the whole thing? Oh, and a certain Captain of Squad 6 may decide to run a little search-and-rescue operation of his own. Tune in next chapter for the good stuff, tentatively titled '_Power Animal_' (bonus points for the people who know what movie I got that from).

Until next time!


	8. Nadir

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or any of its characters; Tite Kubo does. I do, however, claim ownership of my OC, Saika. Don't use him for anything without my permission, if you would be so kind.

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 8:** Nadir

* * *

Saika opened his eyes with a groan, his head throbbing.

_I knew I had too much of that sake…_

But when he tried to move his hand, Saika found his arm unresponsive.

"What the hell…?"

"Ah, good, you're awake. Gods know I've been waiting long enough."

The voice, which sounded like a rusted blade cutting through metal, froze Aron's blood cold as his eyes focused on the figure in front of him.

"Lord Mortos…"

The Baron smiled.

"Indeed. I was hoping to not have to resort to having your food drugged, but the five of you getting thrown in prison forced my hand somewhat."

Saika looked down to see himself bound on a rack, suspended a few feet above the ground.

"So… Yoshinara…"

Mortos chuckled.

"Oh, don't be so hard on the kid. After all, his sister _is_ in the employ of my brat Callos, who could end her life at any point if he wanted to. Really, familial piety just came before loyalty to his military superiors."

Saika blinked, trying to keep the sting of sweat away from his eyes.

"Where are the others?"

"Your two dogs and those Soul Reapers, you mean? Oh, don't worry; Goroza is taking excellent care of them."

Aron's breath caught in his throat. Goroza was Mortos' chief torturer, a sadist born and bred who saw bodies as nothing more than stages on which to conduct his next symphony of pain and anguish.

"You really are a heartless monster…"

Mortos gave Saika a cryptic smile and stood up, beginning to pace the floor.

"Do you want to hear a story?" he asked, and Saika stopped straining against the ropes as they began to bite into his wrists.

"What the hell are you blabbering about?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes.' Now, where to start, where to start… I guess the beginning is as good a place as any. But first, there's someone I want you to meet." Mortos looked over towards the door.

"Enter!"

Aron's eyes swiveled towards the door and froze, waiting for whatever horror his former Lord was about to unleash upon him. When he saw a huge, black wolf with molten orange eyes pad into the room, he gasped in shock.

"Akumora?!"

Mortos laughed loudly as the wolf walked over to him and sat, growling contently as the Baron stroked it behind the ear.

"Yes, this is Akumora; your zanpakuto, your power. Or, more correctly, this is _my_ power."

"What?"

"I see that you are confused. No matter, the explanation will come in time. Now, I will begin my tale."

* * *

"I'm impressed by you humans," Goroza crowed as he carved another line down Ichigo's back. "Usually, your kind would be screaming and begging for mercy by now."

"I'm not about to give a sick bastard like you that kind of satisfaction," Ichigo shot back, although in truth he was inches away from the breaking point.

"I see. Well, if physical pain won't do the trick, I guess I'll have to try cracking you open psychologically. I hear, Ichigo Kurosaki, that you are most enamored with the prince Callos' new bride, Rukia Kuchiki. Is that right?"

"She'll never marry that son of a bitch, not while I'm still alive."

"Give it time, Kurosaki. Death comes for us all; in your case, a bit more swiftly than normal, but I'm not going to kill you before I've had my fun. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, Rukia Kuchiki. Did you know, young Ichigo, that the prince plans on claiming his rights as her husband today?"

Ichigo's eyes shot wide open and Goroza, seeing his opening, exploited it mercilessly. The physical pain of the blade digging into his flesh, combined with the mental pain of knowing that Rukia was in grave danger and there was nothing he could do about it, brought a howl of pain and rage bursting out of his throat.

"Ahh, _there_ it is!" Goroza said, smiling wickedly as Ichigo went lax, the strength of the rope keeping him from tumbling to the ground.

"You demon…" Renji growled, furious at seeing his friend broken so cruelly. Goroza looked over at the red-haired Soul Reaper and chuckled.

"Was that supposed to be an insult? If so, that was pathetic. Wait your turn, Abarai Renji. I'll get to you as soon as I'm done carving pieces off of these traitors."

"You'd better be sure to kill me now, you sadistic coward," Grimmjow spat like a rabid lion, "or I swear by all of the Gods I'll make you suffer agony you couldn't even dream of."

The torturer laughed manically, brandishing a hooked cleaver.

"I love the fiery ones," he said. "They always make for the most interesting music!"

* * *

"Did you know that your mother was barren, Saika?"

"Barren?"

"She was physically incapable of bearing children. She never told you that, did she?"

Saika raised an eyebrow at that.

"That makes no sense, Mortos. If she was barren, how was I born?"

Mortos leaned forward, a gleam in his eye.

"That's where it gets interesting, boy! You see, dear Kasumi was so desperate for a child that she was willing to make a deal with whoever it took, be they human or… otherwise."

Aron's arms tensed reflexively, coaxing more blood from his wrists.

"No…"

Mortos clapped his hands.

"Ah, I see he's figured it out. Can you guess whom it was who approached your poor mother at the bottom of her despair, offering a way out, a helping hand gleaming in the darkness? Hmmm? I want to hear you say it, boy!"

Saika felt like a black chasm was opening at his feet, ready to swallow him as soon as he opened his mouth and spoke.

"You."

"Exactly right! But it gets better than that. You see, I offered her a child on the condition that its soul would belong to me. Foolish Kasumi was blinded by her desire and agreed, not realizing that she had just damned her beloved child to an eternity of servitude at my side. Your story doesn't end there, however. I was in need of a new Prince to lead my legions, and I had done extensive research on all possible carriers for my next scion. Your mother, as fate would have it, carried spiritual energy that was most receptive to bonding successfully with demonic energies. The only thing she was lacking was a catalyst, something that was oh-so-easy for me to provide. Which brings us, at last, to your zanpakuto: Akumora. Saika, Akumora was, and has always been, the manifestation of the powers I vested within you at conception. He is my power, as he is yours. From father, to son."

"That's not possible… my father was—"

"Ryu Aron? Don't be ridiculous. Why do you think he treated you so badly those few years he knew you? Every time he looked into those eyes, he saw someone other than him staring back and laughing. Why do you think you attained the power you did so quickly? Did you honestly think you were that gifted? What astonishing arrogance! Everything you were in the Human World, and everything you are now, is all thanks to my power. Without me, my son, you are nothing."

It was such a draining task that he nearly passed out, but Saika managed to keep his voice level as he replied.

"So what happens now, Mortos?"

The Baron laughed.

"Stubborn to the end, eh, kid? You know, I always did favor you over Callos, even though he was much older than you. You have much strength in you, and a tremendous well of anger pulsing just under the surface. Demonic strength tempered with the control of a Soul Reaper's power over raw spiritual energy… truly, you are my finest creation."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Quite right. I had such high hopes for you, Saika, and you went and stabbed me in the back for the sake of a Soul Reaper. If I had a heart, it would be bleeding right now. Fact of the matter is, I just can't let a crime like treason go unpunished, even if you are flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. But rather than send you out back to get butchered like your two dogs, I've decided to compromise. I'm going to strip you of the power I gave you, and leave you to rot here in this dungeon. Akumora, would you be so kind as to do the honors?"

The wolf bared his fangs, saliva dripping from his maw.

"Of course, my Lord."

The ropes were lowered until Saika's feet touched the ground, and Akumora paced forward, mouth opening hungrily.

"Akumora… don't do this. I command you not to strike!"

If wolves could grin, Akumora did just that.

"I don't take orders from traitors, child. Be thankful that you will yet live, and cease your meaningless pleas."

With that, the demon wolf bared his fangs and struck.

* * *

Rukia woke up feeling better than she had in quite some time, until she remembered where she was and her heart sunk.

"Why the long face, cutie?"

Expecting to be greeted by Arina's kind voice, Rukia's heart was shocked back to life by the icily venomous tone that spoke to her. Turning hesitantly, Kuchiki found herself staring into the eyes of her alleged husband-to-be, Prince Callos. Steeling herself as best she could, the princess of the Kuchiki spoke.

"What do you want, you bastard?"

"Ooh, feisty! I like that in a whore; it makes it so much more enjoyable. Tell me, are you ready to truly become my wife, Rukia Kuchiki?"

Rukia's blood froze at the implication, but she tried to stall for time. _Ichigo…help…_

"I don't know what you mean, demon."

Callos disappeared and was directly in front of Rukia a moment later, grabbing her neck and forcing her back down onto the bed.

"Don't play coy with me, woman," he hissed. "You know exactly what I mean."

As he sunk down to kiss her, Rukia jacked her reiatsu up to the maximum and let loose. Callos, who wasn't expecting to be hit by a captain-level surge of energy, flew backwards off of the bed and slammed into the wall. He was back on his feet in moments, a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes and an equally disturbing smile on his face.

"So that's how it's gonna be, eh, Kuchiki? In that case, I might have to bring out the big guns. You might be able to bring yourself to strike at me now, but what about…

"Now?"

Rukia gasped in shock as the figure before her changed from Callos to a much more familiar face, with a much more familiar smile.

It was Kaien Shiba.

But before she was pulled into the illusion completely, the memories of her fight against the Ninth Espada flashed through her head and she snarled, her eyes furious slits.

"I won't allow anyone to disgrace his memory ever again! _Hado number 4: Byakurai_!"

Instead of the normal bolt that emerged from her fingertip when she uttered the spell, this time a blast of white, searing ball lighting erupted from her hand. It arced forward with deadly precision and strength, slamming into Callos' chest and electrocuting him. As a cloud of smoke rose up from the impact, Rukia looked around fervently for her zanpakuto and saw it leaning against the table Callos had been sitting at. She flash-stepped over, grabbed it and returned to her previous position, waiting for the smoke to clear so that she could strike.

* * *

Yoruichi woke up from her nap with an ill feeling n the pit of her stomach. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. Deciding to go with her best guess, she rummaged through the junk in her room until she found a very particular box, one sealed with fifteen different _kido_ spells that she hadn't opened since the day Saika had been taken from her. After she'd taken down every seal, Yoruichi opened the chest with slightly shaking hands and looked down at the only thing occupying it, a sword encased in an elegant black sheath.

Saika Aron's zanpakuto.

As she gripped the hilt and made to pull out the sword, Yoruichi gasped and dropped the zanpakuto.

Or what was left of it, anyway.

The hilt and sheath remained, but the Shihoin princess saw with horror that the blade itself had crumbled to dust.

"Saika…."

* * *

"You… bastard…"

"Now, now, Saika. Is that any way to speak to your father?"

"Fuck you!"

"Hold your tongue, boy, or I might just tell Akumora to sever your jugular along with your demonic powers. Speaking of which, are you done yet, Akumora?"

The wolf released its clamped jaws, backing up a few paces as it licked the blood from its teeth.

"Yes, master."

"Excellent. Well, Saika, I certainly enjoyed this little chat. I'll be back in a few hours to check on you, but right now I have a few things to attend to. It seems you aren't the only traitor trying to stab me in the back right now," he finished, drawing a gleaming crystal from the folds of his robes before vanishing, along with Akumora.

"Damn you…" Saika whispered, feeling completely and utterly impotent as the darkness rushed up to carry him off.

* * *

"Is that all you got?" Grimmjow spat. "I still have all four limbs, you pansy!"

Goroza huffed, wiping the blade clean of blood and catching his breath.

"I have to admit, dog, your iron skin is quite impressive. No doubt much stronger than a typical arrancar, since I assume Saika strengthened you with demonic energies."

"Something like that," Jaegerjaques said with an animalistic grin. "You must have noticed that we no longer bear the marks of our numbers, fool. We're so far beyond the limits of the Espada it'd make your head spin, you jackass."

Goroza smirked, hefting his blade once again.

"Then let's see where your limits lie now, shall we?"

* * *

"Wake up, Prince Saika."

The orange-eyed warrior replied without even opening his eyes.

"Don't call me that, whoever you are. I'm no prince."

"But you are," the voice insisted, "and until you accept both who and what you are, you will never have the power to strike down your father and end his reign of terror."

"So then tell me, mysterious stranger," Saika said as he opened his eyes, "what am I?"

Aron found himself in Seireitei, specifically on the rooftop of the 2nd Division's headquarters under a starry sky, a full moon glowing brightly.

"Actually, scratch that. _Where_ am I?"

"In your spirit world, Saika. It reflects the most tranquil facet of your soul, and in this case that happens to be the memories associated with this place."

Saika turned to behold the speaker, who was about the same height as him and also shared his orange eyes, but these were a few shades darker and much more volatile. His hair was black as well, but it hung down to just past his shoulders, untamed, and his canine teeth were a bit longer than normal.

"Who are you?"

The figure laughed.

"What a stupid question. I'm your inner-demon, kid."

"My… what? No, you must be joking—Mortos just drew his power out of me."

The figure smiled wolfishly.

"True, our father did strip you of an immense amount of power, but he didn't completely eradicate it."

"Why not?"

"You honestly think that he controlled every single bit of demonic power within you? All power adapts and evolves over time, becoming intertwined with the soul. He still held sway over a great deal of your power, true, but a portion of it you took and made completely your own. I am that power, Saika."

Aron shook his head.

"Forget it. I'll talk to my zanpakuto's spirit instead, thank you."

The figure laughed harshly, sending a shiver up Saika's spine.

"Your zanpakuto? You mean that treacherous bastard of a wolf? Your zanpakuto as you knew it is dust now, Saika. And before you even say it, half a soul isn't enough to manifest a pure zanpakuto, even if your Soul Reaper side is particularly strong."

"Then why are you here, and my other half isn't?"

"I beat it into submission and took its power," the figure said with another grin. Aron sighed.

"Wonderful. So, what's your name?"

The figure shook his head.

"Not so fast, kid. If I tell you that, you'll try to start ordering me around, and I'll be damned before I let someone who isn't worthy of my strength fight with it."

"But… we are damned."

The figure growled.

"That's beside the point, smartass. Now, show me your strength!"

Saika's 'evil twin,' as he chose to call him, drew a sword and pointed it at Aron. Saika reached to his waist and found a sword waiting, which he drew with a satisfying ring.

"Shall we?"

* * *

Aizen was musing over the five different ways he could possibly kill Mortos and trying to decide which one he liked the most when a deceptively calm voice broke him out of his reverie.

"If I were you, I would go with _Hado number 99_. None of the other plans would come even close to killing me."

Sosuke spun around to face Lord Mortos, a sweat springing up on the back of his neck.

"You pathetic humans are all the same," Mortos sneered, walking closer to Aizen. "Always thinking about the way to acquire the most power, but never accounting for every possible occurrence. Blinded by your desire, you focus solely on the end and never on the means. Did you honestly think I'd be blind to such base and obvious perfidy? That will be your last and greatest mistake, Sosuke Aizen."

Before the former captain could even react, Mortos appeared in front of him and shoved the crystal into his chest, where it began to pulse and glow with energy. Aizen tried to move but found himself paralyzed.

"What are you doing to me?"

"Relax, scum. You're not going to die, I'm simply draining all of your reiatsu into this crystal, permanently. When I'm finished, you'll be a human, nice and harmless and docile. Perfect fodder for target practice."

Yanking out the crystal and walking away with a spring in his step, Mortos began to laugh as he heard Aizen fall to his knees and scream in despair.

"Rot, traitor."

* * *

Rukia's grip on Sode no Shirayuki tensed as the smoke cleared, but what she saw almost made her drop her sword in fright. Callos had taken on Ichigo's form, which now had a bloody, smoking hole in the middle of it. Collapsing to his knees, 'Ichigo' coughed up blood.

"Rukia… how could you? I thought you loved me…"

As much as she knew that this wasn't Ichigo, Rukia couldn't help but feel pain at the sight of her beloved torn to shreds. It was irrational and she knew it, but right now her heart wasn't exactly the most rational thing in the world.

_Damn it, Rukia, pull yourself together! Kill him!_

Sode no Shirayuki's insistent tone shocked Rukia out of her thoughts, and she gripped her zanpakuto harder.

"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki! Hakuren!"

The concentrated crescent of ice cut Callos in half along a diagonal, but the demon prince wasn't about to go down that easily. Holding himself together with his arms, he boosted his reiatsu until the strength of his spiritual energy had closed up his wounds, and then he lowered it again, smiling and assuming his original shape.

"You are a piece of work, bitch," Callos said, "I'll give you that much. But no matter how much you fight, you can't beat me. I'll bend you, break you and own you, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

With that he lunged forward, knocking Rukia's zanpakuto away and throwing her onto the bed, pouncing on top of her hungrily. Tracing his fingers over her neck, a grin grew on his face.

"Your blood is boiling! Excellent, truly excellent; and you're still a maiden? Well," he said, chuckling, "let's see if we can do something about that, shall we?"

Rukia's eyes widened in terror and her mind screamed in rage, but she was as hopeless as a snared fox. Bracing herself for the inevitable searing pain, she closed her eyes and a tear escaped them.

_Ichigo, I'm so sorry…_

"Callos! Get off the Kuchiki woman and stand at attention!"

The demonic voice would have normally scared Rukia senseless, but given her current crisis Mortos' words were the sweetest things she had ever heard; minus the insult, of course. With a frustrated growl the prince got up and made himself presentable, turning to face his father.

"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, father?" he said, bowing.

"Stop with the formalities and shut up, brat. I have a job for you," Mortos snapped, holding out the pulsating crystal.

"What's this?"

"This gem now holds approximately one-fifth of Sosuke Aizen's reiatsu. I'm giving it to you as a weapon to use on your mission, Callos."

Taking it greedily, the prince absorbed the power and sighed.

"What happened to the other four-fifths, father?"

"I gave one each to the Four Horsemen. I didn't want you to implode under the weight of reiatsu you couldn't control, after all. As for your mission, you are to take the Four Horsemen and five legions to the Human World, and then through to Soul Society. Bring the suffering and darkness of this place to their doorstep, and prepare it for my arrival."

Callos bowed, handing the empty crystal back to his father.

"At once, my Lord." Just as he was making to leave, however, the prince glanced back and saw Rukia.

"What should I do with the harlot, father?"

Mortos looked into Rukia's eyes and shrugged.

"Kill her, I don't care. I have chosen an heir, which makes her existence pointless. Besides, it would be an act of mercy to end her life, seeing as how her lover and her other friend are certainly dead by now."

The implications of Mortos having chosen an heir flew right over Callos' head as he smiled wickedly, walking over to Rukia's zanpakuto, picking it up and swinging it around to get the feel for its weight. Rukia felt sick at the handling of Sode no Shirayuki, as if someone was reaching inside the core of her being and befouling her soul directly.

"Such a shame," Callos said as he picked Rukia up by the neck and held her against the wall with one hand.

"I could have had so much fun with you."

Without another word, the prince pierced Rukia's midsection with a single thrust, pinning her to the wall like a bug and breaking the hilt off of the blade, stranding her. Snorting in contempt, Callos flash-stepped away and left Rukia to die, with Mortos following shortly after.

As her eyes fluttered closed, the last things Rukia saw and heard were a pair of blue eyes rushing towards her, and a soft voice calling out unintelligible words.

* * *

"I get the feeling you don't like me very much, brother."

"No kidding. And stop calling me brother, you demon!"

"Takes one to know one, Saika. Just a hint, the more you deny who you are, the further you are from harnessing your true potential."

"But I'm not like you. And that piece of shit is not my father, no matter what he says," Saika shouted, letting loose with another flurry of strikes that his 'evil twin' dodged with ease.

"Search your feelings, Saika. You know it to be true."

Aron stopped fighting for a moment, their blades deadlocked.

"Did you seriously just say that?"

The 'evil twin' grinned.

"Sorry," he said, "I couldn't help myself. But I'd be more worried about you leaving yourself open, brother!"

"Son of a bitch!"

"That's not a very nice thing to say about our mother, Saika," the 'evil twin' admonished as he landed a blow to Aron's side, sending him reeling.

"We don't even have to be fighting like this, if you don't want to," the 'evil twin' said. "Just admit that I'm superior to you and let me take the driver's seat instead. I'll get us out of this crisis in a flash."

"I don't think so, brother," Saika growled as he threw himself back into the fray, striking with renewed fervor.

"Hey, I think you're finally getting it. But I don't feel like hanging by these ropes forever, so if you don't mind," the 'evil twin' spoke, readying his blade,

"I'm going to finish this off right now, in one strike!"

Saika grinned.

"Just how I like it. Come on!"

* * *

"Damn, your blades must be getting soft. I can't feel anything anymore."

"That's probably because the nerves in your skin are all sliced up, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra opined dryly as Goroza continued to try and break the former Sixth Espada, determined not to stop until he had won.

"Naw, I think this guy just isn't as hot as he thinks he is. I mean, I can still talk, for God's sake. What does that say about his skill as a purveyor of pain, I ask you?"

"Shut up!" Goroza shouted, swinging his cleaver at Grimmjow's neck. The blade shattered, worn out from swing after swing. Jaegerjaques grinned.

"Jesus, this is getting pathetic."

Goroza snarled like an injured lion, throwing the useless hilt to the ground and picking up a fresh knife.

"Enough of you," the torturer said, turning his gaze to Renji. "Clearly, I need to warm up some more on human flesh."

"Who says I'm a human, bastard?" Renji said with a smirk, putting up a strong front while he steeled himself for whatever pain he might encounter. Ichigo, meanwhile, had woken back up and was trying to break free from the ropes that bound him with all of his might. Grimmjow looked over and spoke.

"Kurosaki, don't waste your strength. You keep at that and you'll bleed out for sure. Trust me, I know how tenacious your woman is, and she'd probably die before she let Callos dishonor her."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ichigo said tersely, grimacing as Goroza started working on Renji.

_If you're anywhere nearby, Saika,_ he thought, _now would be a great time to show up._

* * *

Callos reviewed the battle lines, noting the sheer number of soldiers with satisfaction. The Four Horsemen stood at the head of the group, fearsome warriors and Hell's elite soldiers. Death carried a yari, while Famine wielded a classical spear. Pestilence chose a bow, while War brandished a double-bladed sword. Together, they were an unstoppable force of carnage.

"My fellow warriors," Callos called out, "now is the time to unfurl the mighty standard of our Lord, Mortos, and march it right to the center of the Seireitei! Soul Society will burn, and from its ashes will rise a new kingdom, one remade in my father's image. So march with me now, and march onward to a new dawn!"

A massive roar erupted from the mass of demonic soldiers and each of the Horsemen took a legion, with Callos commanding the fifth as they marched through the open gate into the Human World, and from there they would enter Soul Society for the first and final time.

* * *

The two combatants stood apart from each other now, their last-ditch strikes carried through. The 'evil twin' sunk to his knees, exhausted, while Saika remained on his feet, albeit shaking like a leaf.

"Well, shit," the 'evil twin' said at length, "we're both screwed now. You won't accept my power, and now we're both too weak to break out of here on our own."

Saika walked over to his opponent and knelt, looking him right in the eyes.

"I never said I wouldn't accept your power," he replied, "I said I wouldn't let you control me. Do you yield, brother?"

The 'evil twin' smiled wearily, nodding.

"I yield, Saika. Let us be one once more."

Aron put his hand on the figure's shoulder and watched as it dissipated into spirit particles, flowing into Saika's own reiatsu and filling in the gap left there by Akumora's theft. The whole of his Spirit World pulsed with new life and energy, rejoicing at the reunion. Searching his soul, Saika found the name of his new power and smiled.

_You ready?_ His spirit asked him, and Aron just grinned.

Shifting his attention back to the corporeal world, Saika opened his eyes and looked down and noticed with satisfaction that a sword now hung at his hip, with black hilt-wrappings and a white sheath. Even though he couldn't hold his sword, that wouldn't stop him from unleashing its power.

"Rise, Oujiscuro."

A burst of reiatsu emanated from the battered Prince, and when it faded Saika was standing on the ground, the ropes nothing but ashes. Aron's eyes had become a few shades darker and more molten and his canine teeth and gotten a touch longer, but his hair remained the same short length despite his transformation. Black robes replaced his tattered prisoner garb, offering much-needed protection. After taking a moment to revel in the power that coursed anew through his veins, Aron blew the door away with a blast of dark energy and charged through the opening, hoping that he wasn't too late to save his friends.

* * *

Rukia opened her eyes slowly, afraid that if she focused too hard the frail fantasy would shatter and she would realize she was dead.

"Please stay still, Lady Rukia," Arina insisted, keeping her in place gently but firmly. "I only just managed to staunch the bleeding, and if you move too much now you might reopen the wound."

"Arina…?"

"Yes, it's me, Lady Rukia. I managed to get in here as soon as Lord Mortos and Prince Callos left, but it took some effort to pry your zanpakuto off of the wall and then remove it from you without you dying. You have a very tough soul, Lady Rukia."

Rukia noticed that Arina's hands were bandaged and bloody, no doubt from having to extricate Sode no Shirayuki from the wall. Guilt surged through her and she apologized.

"Arina, I'm sorry you have to do all of this on my account."

The girl looked down at her patient and smiled.

"Don't worry about it, Lady Rukia," she insisted. "Keeping you safe _is_ my job, after all. There we go, all done. I'd say you should be right as rain in about two or three days."

"It'll really take that long?"

"Well, your soul is damaged as well as your body. When neither one can help the other heal, the process takes much longer than normal, as I'm sure you can understand. Besides, Prince Callos has left on a military expedition, so he won't be bothering you for quite some time."

"A… military expedition? Where to?"

Rukia had heard where Callos was going earlier, but the combined shock of her near-assault and being stabbed by her own zanpakuto had scrambled her memory.

"Nowhere important, really," Arina lied, knowing that the last thing Rukia needed right now was to be agitated. "You just get your rest, Lady Rukia. You need it, trust me."

She smiled wearily as Rukia drifted off to sleep, noticing that her broken zanpakuto was throbbing angrily at her.

"Don't look at me like that!" she whispered harshly. "You and I both know she needs her rest, so calm down." Sode no Shirayuki stopped pulsing so insistently, but there was still a thrumming undercurrent of anger present. Rukia, on the other hand, was dreaming peacefully of a certain orange-haired Soul Reaper, and fervently hoping for his safe return to her side.

* * *

Goroza was about to start up another round on Renji when he felt a call coming from Lord Mortos himself through a reiatsu bridge, and he opened himself up to it.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I have no need for these worthless pigs, Goroza; they will not tell me anything I don't already know. Kill them now, and grind their corpses to dust."

Goroza closed the connection and smiled wide, glad that he could now finally cut to kill.

"Well, boys, the order just came down that I get to start slicing to kill. Which means that Callos has begun his invasion of Soul Society, and the information you possess is no longer needed."

"What?!" Ichigo and Renji both shouted despite their pain, stunned by the news.

"Yes, soon Soul Society and your precious Seireitei will be nothing more than a pile of rubble for Lord Mortos to use as the foundation for his next great empire! Let that image be the last that floats in your minds as you perish under my blades in the most exquisite agony!"

Just as the torturer swung his blade downwards towards Ichigo's neck, the cleaver froze in mid-arc and dropped with a clatter, while Goroza looked down in shock to see a katana piercing his chest.

"Really, Goroza," a sharp, mocking voice spoke out from behind him, "could you have said anything more clichéd?"

The blade was withdrawn from the wound in the torturer's chest and he slumped forward before falling to the ground completely, dead. Grimmjow blinked a few times, barely recognizing the warrior who stood before them now.

"Boss?" he asked, incredulous. "Is that you?"

Saika smiled and resealed his demonic half, returning to his normal appearance.

"Yeah, Grimmjow, it's me."

"But then what the hell was that thing just now?"

Aron sighed, the sudden burst of untrained power taking a toll on him. He was going to have to work on that.

"It's a long story," he said. "Let's just say that it turns out Mortos is my father and leave it at that for now."

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow were visibly surprised by the news, but Ichigo and Renji just looked confused.

"Who's this Mortos guy?"

Saika frowned; this was one conversation he didn't want to have right now.

"Look, that doesn't matter. Do you want to save Rukia or not?"

At the mention of their friend's name, Ichigo and Renji both promptly abandoned their curiosity and got into an argument over which one of them wanted to save Rukia the most. Saika groaned as he cut the two former Espada loose.

"They really are hopeless, huh?"

"When it comes to that chick," Grimmjow said, "you bet'cher ass."

A few moments later all four of the captives were cut loose, but Renji and Ichigo were in pretty rough shape. Still, they insisted they could push on to the armory and Saika saw that there was no dissuading them.

"All right, let's get going. I'll take point," Saika spoke. "Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, you two flank me. Ichigo and Renji, well… just try not to die."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I think Aron-sama is putting far too much stock in their abilities," Ulquiorra said, and Ichigo would have strangled him had he not been on their side.

"Nice one," Grimmjow said, smirking at the murderous look on the carrot-top's face.

"All right, enough screwing around. Let's go."

The five of them met with minimal resistance at the armory as well as on the way up to Callos' manor, but that changed once they actually breached the doors of the building. A group of twenty guards rushed out to stop them, and Grimmjow grinned.

"Looks like we might have some fun after all, Boss."

Saika smirked as he drew his sword, Oujiscuro crying out for blood.

"Just try not to make too big of a mess, Grimmjow."

Ichigo phased right into his _bankai_ and proceeded to carve through the soldiers like butter, with Renji not that far behind him.

"Why do you think we're running into resistance now when almost no one was at the armory?"

"This is probably a private group of soldiers," Ichigo answered as he took down yet another one, "and my guess is that the ones guarding the armory were enlisted grunts who're mostly on their way to Soul Society."

A few frantic moments later and all of the enemies were down. Exulting in their victory for a moment, the five warriors pressed on up the stairs and spread out, trying to find Rukia as quickly as they could. As fate would have it, Ichigo happened upon her chamber, and when he saw her prone, bandaged figure he wasted no time in running over to her side.

"Rukia!"

"Shh! She's sleeping, you big oaf!" Arina hissed, but it was too late as Rukia's eyes opened slowly and she yawned.

"Who's there?" she said sleepily, before her vision cleared and she saw a pair of wonderfully familiar brown eyes looking down at her.

"Ichigo?" she asked slowly, assuming she was dreaming. Then, when she realized it was real as the feel of his fingers on her cheek shocked Rukia out of her lethargy, she smiled.

"Ichigo…" she sighed contently, before slipping back into slumber. The orange-haired Soul Reaper looked over the extent of her injury and frowned, wanting to enact terrible suffering upon the person who had scarred Rukia so badly.

"It was Prince Callos," Arina said as she changed the bandages on Rukia's wound.

"Stabbed her with her own zanpakuto. It's a nasty wound, but it should heal all right in time. It helps that her heart isn't broken anymore."

"Where is that bastard?"

"If you want revenge, he's on his way to Soul Society as we speak. But I promise you it won't be easy; he has a horde of troops at his command, not to mention the Four Horsemen."

"I don't care what he throws at me," Ichigo growled, the voice of his Hollow coming through in his rage, "I'm going to rip his head off."

"I believe you, sir," Arina said with more than a hint of fear in her voice, "but the fact of the matter is that a battlefield is no place for Rukia right now. She needs medical attention, not combat."

"Then I'll bring her to the Fourth Division," Ichigo insisted, gazing down at Rukia's sleeping face. "I'm not going to leave here without her, not after everything we've had to do to get here."

"So be it, Ichigo sir," Arina said warily, "but if her wound open up and she bleeds out on the way, don't come crying to me."

"She'll be fine," Ichigo insisted, picking up her small form and cradling it in his arms like she was made of glass. The other four warriors appeared at the door, faces frantic.

"Ichigo, we gotta get out of here!" Renji shouted. "They're sending almost every soldier they have left after us!"

Saika shared a glance with his two captains and turned to Ichigo and Renji, drawing his sword.

"I'm going to open a way for you into the Human World," he said. "The three of us will buy you time to escape. You need to get to Soul Society as quickly as you can and warn them of the invasion. Go, now! We'll come support you as soon as we can!"

The two Soul Reapers nodded to each other and ran through the rift Aron made as soon as it opened, while Grimmjow, Ulquiorra and Saika ran back out into the main courtyard to face their enemies. Drawing their swords, the three comrades readied themselves for a fight to the death.

* * *

"Did we make it?" Renji asked breathlessly as the three friends crossed through the second gate into Soul Society, thankfully without running into any Cleaners.

"Yeah," Ichigo said as he looked towards the Seireitei in the distance, "but I think we might be too late."

Renji followed Ichigo's gaze and saw with dismay that a huge host was marching closer and closer to the Seireitei, burning and looting everything in their path. They could almost hear Callos' shrill laughter ringing in their ears as they hurried towards the walled city, hoping that they could at least get Rukia to safety before the battle began.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Man, that took much longer to write than expected. Writer's block strikes without mercy, it seems, and revisions take longer than anticipated. Sorry if there wasn't enough action, but I figured that the weight of the plot revealed in this chapter makes up for it, along with the fact that it sets up an action-packed Chapter 9! Hope you enjoyed it, and as usual, **please review**, it really helps me to keep on going in the face of a torrential downpour of work.


	9. Let Loose the Hounds of War

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. Tite Kubo does. I do own my OC Saika, though, so don't use him for anything without first asking me for permission. Thanks.

**Author's Note:** Just a short bit before we get into the chapter, because I forgot to put it at the end of the last one: Saika's demon's name, Oujiscuro, is a combination of the Japanese for 'Prince' (Ouji) and the Italian for 'Dark' (Scuro), which makes 'Dark Prince'.

* * *

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 9:** Let Loose the Hounds of War

* * *

_Seireitei—The Night Before The Invasion_

Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya knew his zanpakuto was powerful, but he'd never gotten a sense of just how much raw, untapped power Hyorinmaru held within him until now. The dragon had quite literally pulled him out of a rather pleasant dream into his Spirit World, and now Hyorinmaru was circling the skies above Toshiro anxiously, his entire body a mass of coiling, writhing power just begging to be unleashed.

"The winds are changing, young one," he said in his enigmatic growl, "and they carry the stench of Hell upon them."

Toshiro raised a white eyebrow at the spirit's cryptic words.

"Meaning…?"

Hyorinmaru stopped circling the skies and coiled himself like a spring, his red eyes piercing right through Hitsugaya's green ones.

"Meaning soon it will be time for me to reclaim my birthright, and for you to claim yours. The 'Heavenly Guardian' will rise once more…"

Toshiro woke up with a start, shaken by the power that had resonated in Hyorinmaru's voice. 'Heavenly Guardian'? Hitsugaya had heard that phrase only one other time, during his short duel with Gin Ichimaru all those years ago. Surely he wasn't being _literal_, was he…?

Too wired to go back to sleep, the Tenth Division Captain swung his legs over the side of his bed and got up, heading outside. His head swimming with an overload of thoughts as he walked briskly through the Captain's District, Hitsugaya barely had time to register the person meditating in front of him before he tripped over them, tumbling to the ground with a thud. Rising hastily to his feet, Toshiro was about to berate whoever had possessed the gall to trip him when he saw that it was none other than Captain Byakuya Kuchiki.

"Captain Kuchiki…" the young Captain said with more than a little trepidation, too frazzled to deal with a perturbed Senbonzakura. Byakuya looked over at his comrade placidly and shrugged with his eyes.

"Be at ease, Captain Hitsugaya," he said, his voice more strained than Toshiro had remembered hearing it in a long time.

"If anyone should be apologizing, it is I."

"Don't worry about it," Toshiro replied with a little too much eagerness in his voice, happy to have avoided a confrontation. But then his thoughts were focused on something else entirely, something even more unnerving than Byakuya Kuchiki's behavior.

What was wrong with him? Since when was the Captain of Tenth Division so skittish? Was he losing it or something? In an effort to shift the unspoken focus off of himself, Hitsugaya addressed the Sixth Division Captain.

"What brings you outside at this hour, Captain, if I may ask?"

Byakuya shifted his gaze to a different point on the horizon, folding his hands in his lap calmly.

"I am awaiting Rukia's return," he said simply, before falling silent and moving his right hand gently along Senbonzakura's hilt, as if seeking some form of solace from his blade. Toshiro, seeing that whatever conversation he'd had with Kuchiki was over, bowed to take his leave and walked away, surprised. That was as emotional as he'd ever seen Byakuya, and the white-haired captain wondered absently if everyone was feeling on edge tonight.

Apparently, the answer to that question was a resounding 'yes'. Seireitei was abuzz with nervous activity, from the frantic scrawl of pen over paper to the jerky movements of sword exercises. Something was in the air, all right, and it made Toshiro's skin crawl. As he was walking by Momo's quarters, he heard the unnerving sound of his best friend twisting and whimpering in her sleep, clearly having a nightmare. Immediately putting on his 'concerned' face, the Captain tiptoed quietly into his friend's room, trying to see what was wrong. It was then that he saw she had a defined blush on her face, and what he thought was a frown on her face was, in fact, a tense smile.

This wasn't a nightmare; Toshiro didn't need to be a genius to figure out what was going on.

_Awkward…_

Quickly spinning on his heels, Hitsugaya struggled to fight down a blush and shuffled hastily towards the door. Right as he was about to walk away, though, a single word stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Shiro-chan…"

It had been Momo, and she was still asleep.

Thunderstruck, the white-haired captain didn't know quite what to do with that statement, so he shoved it in the back of his mind. As he walked away, though, the blush surged onto his cheeks, accompanied by a distinctly satisfied smirk.

Even if tomorrow brought untold chaos, Toshiro would still have this memory to carry him safely through the turbulent night.

* * *

_Underworld—Present Day_

"Nothing higher than a fledgling?" Grimmjow spat, disappointed. "And here I thought this was going to be a challenge!"

Saika tightened his grip on his sword, synching the two halves of his soul in case he had to rely on his _shikai_.

"You'll get more than enough carnage once we're in Soul Society, Captain," Aron told the former Sixth Espada. "For now, just shut up and take out the trash."

Grimmjow smiled viciously as he was given the full license to kill.

"Yes sir, General," he said, the three of them slipping back into their military habits.

Ulquiorra and Saika hung back, giving their fellow warrior a chance to bust some heads. Jaegerjaques lived for combat, and if he went too long without crossing blades with someone, the result was usually ugly. Grimmjow started out striking with his bare hands, refusing to draw his sword unless his opponent's blood was worthy of decorating it. As more and more gore splattered on the ground, Grimmjow's laugh became stronger and stronger until it was almost as if he'd regressed into his panther form without releasing his zanpakuto. Demon after demon fell before the blue-haired brawler, and the two other warriors thought that just maybe, just this once, fate had thrown them a bone.

How very wrong they were.

Saika sensed the reiatsu first, and his eyes shot wide open in a rare expression of fear.

"Shit! Grimmjow, heads up! It's Monjira!"

Jaegerjaques was only a step behind his General, turning around and drawing his zanpakuto in a single motion while bracing himself for the monstrous impact. He wasn't disappointed, as the massive Cerberus-Hydra hybrid came crashing down a few second later. Pantera growled audibly under the strain as it kept one of the monster's ravenous jaws from feasting on its master, and Grimmjow knew that if he didn't get some backup soon, he was all kinds of screwed.

"Such a delicious reiatsu… I've been looking forward to this since our skirmish at Ratunae. Don't let me down, mongrel."

"I've had it with you gorging yourself on my men, bitch," Saika seethed as he forced the ravenous monster back with a focused blast of reiatsu. "I should have put you down ages ago."

Monjira bared all of her fangs simultaneously and roared, rearing up on her hind legs before lunging forward and striking with all nine heads at once.

"Butcher, Carnifice."

Back in his days as an Espada, the mere threat of Ulquiorra's released state would have been enough to make Nnoitra Jiruga shake like a leaf. Now, bolstered by the experience of countless battles and strengthened by the demonic energies he had absorbed during his time in Hell, Schiffer's _resurreccion _was considered a force to be reckoned with by the upper echelon of demons.

His broken helmet fragment regenerated itself into a full-on samurai helmet, complete with a faceplate covering everything except his eyes. The transformation didn't stop there, as the bone-like armor spread to cover the rest of its master in a complete suit of classical samurai armor fit for a noble, which then changed color from grayish-white to the blackest obsidian. The release of so much power also allowed Ulquiorra to grow several inches, no longer held in check by having to seal his own immense spiritual pressure. This served the double purpose of both giving his strikes greater force and letting him wield his sword with greater ease, which had also grown, up to the length of a nodachi. Grimmjow, after seeing that his comrade had seen fit to release his ultimate power, quickly followed suit so that he wasn't left behind.

"Grind, Pantera!"

Saika, once his head had stopped pounding in the face of so much furious reiatsu, saw no reason not to unleash his new powers and teach this abomination a new definition of torment.

"Rise, Oujiscuro!"

By the time Monjira could see straight through the hurricane of reiatsu, she was down from nine heads to four. Howling in pain and rage, the Greater Demon knew that this had shifted from a sure victory to a true, desperate fight to the death. Taking a calculated risk, Monjira split her attention in half and started blasting demonic energy out of two head like crazy, while the other two burrowed into the ground.

Saika, who had seen Monjira pull hit-and-runs on his soldiers more times than he would like to admit, knew what was coming.

"Ulquiorra," he shouted, "cut those two heads that are underground off and vaporize them!"

"Too late, you worms!" Monjira cackled, and the three warriors saw with horror that all of the corpses, and Monjira's severed heads, had been pulled through the ground and up into the Greater Demon, the two submerged heads acting like super-powered straws. A few seconds later Monjira's maimed body pulsed with black reiatsu, and when the interference cleared, the three warriors found themselves staring down a fully-healed—and absolutely furious—Greater Demon. But far from quivering in fear, Saika got a homicidal grin on his face that would have made Zaraki proud, his fangs glinting murderously.

"This enough of a challenge for you, Captain Jaegerjaques?"

Grimmjow grinned in kind.

"Absolutely, sir."

Saika looked to his left.

"You ready, Captain Schiffer?"

Ulquiorra nodded, gripping his sword tighter.

"All right, then," the demon prince growled. "Let's end this!"

Grimmjow was hesitant to unleash his _Desgarron_ for fear of collateral damage, so he softened up his targets with quick slashed first, before severing the two heads with his elbow darts and incinerating them in a pulse of reiatsu.

Two down, seven to go.

Ulquiorra was a much more patient fighter than his fellow former Espada, preferring to observe extensively before striking. Holding back on his sonido to bait his prey into striking first, the green-eyed Espada waited until the two heads tried to grab him in a pincer before leaping nimbly up onto the neck of one of the appendages. The appendage he was occupying couldn't attack, and the other one was too afraid of hitting itself to attack. With the main head distracted fighting Saika, no orders were issued to the confused appendage. This gave Ulquiorra all the time in the world to charge up a _cero_ and let it fly, the sheer power behind it enough to both sever and incinerate the enemy.

"Pathetic," the obsidian-clad warrior scoffed, shifting his blade so that it was pointing to the ground before bringing it down with impunity, striking deep into the enemy beneath him. The blow was not fatal, however, and a perturbed Ulquiorra now found himself flying through the air as the appendage threw him off of his perch, thrashing about in pain. Schiffer braced himself on a cliff and caught his break before launching back towards his enemy, simmering with focused fury at the notion of being unseated by such garbage. Gripping Carnefice with both hands, he swung it before him in a perfectly measured arc.

"Mezzaluna."

A crescent-shaped blade of crimson demonic energy leapt from the sword, hurtling towards its target before cutting through it halfway, stopping, and exploding. Ulquiorra landed in a perfect crouch, straightened up and brushed a bit of dust off his shoulder.

Four down, five to go.

Mojira wasn't an idiot; she knew that Saika held the most power out of her three enemies, and so she focused the brunt of her attack on him. Five head's worth, to be exact.

"What're you waiting for, little one?" She sneered. "Don't you want to join your men?"

Aron knew he was being baited, but it took everything he had not to rise to it.

"I promised every one of them I'd take revenge on you," Saika said evenly, readying his blade, "and I don't take my promises lightly."

Mojira snarled and lunged.

"I'd like to see you try, whelp!"

The orange-eyed prince channeled every ounce of reiatsu he could into his blade and swung, obliterating one of the appendages entirely. Even though Oujiscuro all but howled in victory, Saika couldn't shake the feeling that something still wasn't quite right with him. Sure, he'd reclaimed a portion of his soul, but the two halves were like yin and yang, rather than a single, homogeneous whole.

A shrill scream jolted the prince out of his thoughts and he raised Oujiscuro up on instinct, barely blocking a lunge from one of Mojira's heads.

_Pay attention, brother!_ Oujiscuro hissed inside Saika's head, and Aron knew that he couldn't drift off like that again if he wanted to keep all of his limbs.

"Getting' sloppy there, boss," Grimmjow taunted snidely as he slashed off the head that had been going for Saika, leaving three still standing.

"Shut up, Grimmjow," Aron growled as his two captains took up their positions flanking him.

"And… thanks for the save."

Jaegerjaques smirked, knowing his boss was in his debt now. _That_ would be interesting.

"Don't mention it."

"Let's end this quickly," Ulquiorra added sternly, shifting his stance to leave one hand free for _cero_. "We have somewhere to be, remember?"

Saika took Oujiscuro in both hands, letting his reiatsu flow freely. He tried one last time to get the two parts of his soul to meld together, but they kept swirling around each other like magnets.

_Slow down, brother,_ he heard Oujiscuro shout urgently. _It feels like you're trying to rip my arms out of their sockets!_

Aron relaxed, grimacing as he felt the aftershock of his actions. Mojira saw the preoccupied look on his face and lunged, going right for the jugular. As he felt the enemy rushing towards him, Saika's reiatsu spiked in an act of primal self-preservation.

Looking around after the initial shock had worn off, the prince noticed that time around him had slowed down to an absolute crawl. At first he thought that it was his 'zanpakuto's special ability, but after a few moments passed and nothing else happened Saika came to a realization, a huge grin on his face.

Time wasn't slowed down, he was just moving so fast that it felt like it was. Readying his sword, Saika hoped his ears could withstand sonic booms.

Outside of the reiatsu field, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow were wondering why their commander was just standing there, stock-still, and Mojira was still reeling from the force of the unexpected blast. Then, before the former Espada even knew what was going on, a loud crack shot through the air and Saika appeared behind Mojira, still standing up straight. But the image of him standing near the two stunned warriors was still there. Ten more cracks sounded off in deafening succession, and each time an afterimage was left behind as clear as the original Saika.

"Holy shit…" Grimmjow said in awe as the images vanished and Mojira practically exploded from the force of so many strikes in so short a timeframe.

"Not even Zommari Leroux could move that fast…" Ulquiorra added, still getting over the force of the reiatsu released during the barrage of attacks as Saika limped over to them.

"How're you two holding up?" He asked, stopping and leaning on his sword, the blade of which was covered completely in red. Grimmjow eyed his master warily.

"I think we should be the ones asking that question, boss," he said with as much concern as he could without Hell freezing over around them. "What the fuck _was_ that?"

"Survival instinct, I guess," Aron offered, shrugging weakly before he slipped and crashed to the ground.

"Are you all right, Aron-sama?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," the prince said tiredly, "I think I'm just gonna pass out right now."

"But…" Grimmjow began to protest, before loud snores started to come up from the prone form below them.

"Damn it," Jaegerjaques cursed as he resealed Pantera. "What're we going to do until he wakes up?"

Ulquiorra resealed Carnifice and sighed, refocusing, before his head snapped up again and his eyes narrowed.

"We've got some company," he said, right as a pack of Alpha Cerberi appeared, their ravenous three-headed forms drooling with hunger. Grimmjow drew his sword with one hand and readied a _cero_ with the other, smirking.

"Yeah," he said, "this should kill some time."

* * *

_Seireitei—The Morning Of The Invasion_

Toshiro Hitsugaya woke up to a smell that he hadn't experienced in a long, long time.

Smoke. Acrid smoke.

Something was burning down.

The Captain bolted out of bed and looked around frantically, but nothing was on fire.

_But then where'd that smell come from?_

Pacing nervously down the walkway, Toshiro tried to seek out the source of the phantom flame and found nothing. As if to openly mock him, a fresh tendril of smoke slipped up into his nostril. But the scent of this one was nothing like the oak smell that had come before it.

This one smelled like burning flesh.

Hitsugaya recoiled physically, taking a few jerky steps back and coughing. The grotesque smell had caught him completely off guard, and the only thing that stopped him from stumbling and falling was Hyorinmaru's voice echoing in his head, as powerful as it had ever been before.

_Calm yourself, Toshiro. There is nothing to be afraid of._

'Nothing to be afraid of?' Hitsugaya thought back. 'Are you serious? Someone's dying in a fire somewhere!'

_That family is already dead, _Hyorinmaru replied with a chilling level of detachment, _and there was nothing you could do to save them. But now is not the time for your soul to be in chaos; join me on my plane, and I will explain what is happening within you._

The Tenth Squad Captain wasn't at all comfortable with the way Hyorinmaru had finished his thought, but he couldn't say no to his zanpakuto. Sitting down cross-legged with a sigh, Hitsugaya rested his sword across his knees and closed his eyes, reaching deep within himself.

As his eyes opened, Toshiro surveyed his icy Spirit World warily. Something big was going on, and for some reason Hyorinmaru was hiding the truth from him.

"You have felt the changes begin; am I correct?"

Hitsugaya turned around, staring down the gargantuan ice dragon.

"Stop being cryptic and tell me just what the hell is going on here!"

Hyorinmaru rippled in annoyance, but replied all the same.

"Do you know what I am, Toshiro Hitsugaya?"

Toshiro didn't know quite how to respond to a question like that, so he kept his mouth shut and waited for his zapakuto's spirit to continue.

"When Gin Ichimaru said that you were the embodiment of a Heavenly Guardian, he was not being entirely facetious. I think this will begin to make more sense to you once I tell you that I was not always a zanpakuto."

Toshiro wasn't under the impression that zanpakuto, physical manifestations of their owner's souls, could be anything other than what they were.

"How is that possible?"

Hyorinmaru was going to reply when he shifted his head towards the horizon, sniffing the air curiously. When he recognized the scent, his eyes narrowed.

"There are more of them than even I first thought, Toshiro," he said. "Since our time here is short, I will get right to the point. When I was first born, it was not in Soul Society at all. Rather, it was in the ethereal dimension that acts as a counterpoint to Hell, the other anchor that holds all of the other worlds together. The Empyrean. I was born to be a weapon, one that the archangels could wield in combat against their demonic foes. I excelled in this role for some time, but all good things must come to an end.

"My master was struck down in battle and killed by a Demon Lord known as Mortos. I fought fiercely to avenge his death, but in the end I could not overcome Mortos on my own. As a final act of malice, Mortos sealed me into a demonic blade and sent me to Soul Society, hoping, I'd imagine, that the influence of the evil blade would corrupt me completely. But I managed to subdue the evil spirit, turning the blade into a pure vessel for my own energies."

"Let me guess," Hitsugaya cut him off, beginning to piece the rest of the tale together in his head. "Someone found you, and you became their zanpakuto as a way of keeping up your skills until you ran into Mortos again."

Hyorinmaru smiled, if such a terrifying array of fangs could be arranged into a smile.

"Quite right, Captain Hitsugaya."

"But when he died, where did you go? You couldn't have disappeared with him, because you weren't fully a part of his soul."

"Correct. I allowed myself to dissipate into the atmosphere of Soul Society, to rest and wait for one whom was worthy of wielding my power, of being my avatar. I went through two other warriors before I decided to change approaches. Realizing that one of the reasons zanpakuto were so powerful was because of the bond they had forged with their wielder from the moment he or she had been born, I chose to wait once more until the person came along who had the necessary strength to fight with me, and then I bonded to their fledgling soul at the moment of conception and waited for the right time to emerge."

Hitsugaya's eyes widened in understanding.

"That person… it was me."

Hyorinmaru flashed another satisfied look.

"Indeed. You, Toshiro Hitsugaya, are the rightful heir to my power. The full extent of my strength, and thus your strength, could not be unsealed until demons roamed the land once again, and they have come for us all now."

The Tenth Division Captain nodded grimly at that, feeling a renewed sense of purpose flow through him, but there was one last question he needed answered.

"But if you're not really a zanpakuto, and you're really some kind of heavenly weapon that just chose to bond with my soul, what does that make me?"

Hyorinmaru grinned with his eyes, shining like rubies.

"Unique. But enough of this prattle, we have work to do. Toshiro Hitsugaya," he said seriously, "are you willing to bear the burden of my full power, to become my avatar incarnate and strike down this plague of foul demons who threaten all of Soul Society?"

Toshiro thought about it for all of a second, and nodded.

"Yes. Hyorinmaru, lend me your strength!"

The dragon roared, and his eyes changed from bright red to a brilliant, deep sapphire blue. The Captain found himself surrounded by an aura of the same color, his pupils dilating wide under the sheer strength of the reiatsu he was absorbing. When the process had finished, Hitsugaya blinked and found himself back in Soul Society. For a moment he didn't believe that any of what he had just experienced had actually happened, until he took a step forward and stopped dead in his tracks.

He could feel the reiatsu around him as clearly as his own, spectral spirit threads floating in front of his eyes. The Soul Reaper ones were red, as usual, but there were a few fiery-orange ribbons interspersed among them.

_That is the color of manifested demonic reiatsu, Toshiro,_ Hyorinmaru hissed in his head. _You must find the sources of these ribbons and destroy them. They are normally cloaked completely from Soul Reapers, but you now have the power to sense them._

Hitsugaya grabbed one of the fiery ribbons and felt a spike in his adrenaline as the demonic reiatsu clashed with his own. Feeling the will to fight surging through him, Toshiro realized that he felt more complete now than he ever had before. He had a new purpose now, something that seemed as right and natural as breathing.

This was what he had been born for.

* * *

"Why aren't they doing anything?" Renji asked frantically as the two friends raced towards Seireitei, which was shockingly still considering there was an army about to be at their gates.

"I think there's something hiding their reiatsu!" Ichigo replied, glancing down at Rukia and noticing with relief that she was still breathing.

"Maybe so, but then why can we see them?"

"Exposure, I'd guess. Anyway, we don't have time to read too far into this. You go wake up Byakuya and raise the alarm; I'll get Rukia to Captain Unohana."

Renji was hesitant to leave his friend's side with her in such condition, but he saw the wisdom in Ichigo's words and nodded, vanishing. The orange-haired Soul Reaper was about to flash-step as well when movement in his arms caused him to stop. Looking down, he saw that Rukia's eyes were open and she was awake, her bleeding slowed down to almost nothing. She looked around for a moment, confused, before her vision cleared and she jumped up, knocking Ichigo under the chin and causing him to drop her to the ground.

"Ow! What was that for, Rukia?"

The dark-haired Soul Reaper got to her feet and shook the dust off of the grey kimono Arina had given her in Hell, glancing around hastily.

"Where am I?" She asked, clearly confused. Ichigo cocked an eyebrow at that, but figured that he would have been frazzled, too, if he'd been abducted to Hell and then rescued after being stabbed through the chest with his own zanpakuto.

"We're in Soul Society, Rukia. I'm taking you to the Fourth Division to get your wound looked at."

Rukia looked over at Ichigo with a start, as if she was just noticing that he was there for the first time. Then the confusion slowly drained from her eyes to be replaced by recognition, and she cried out in disbelief and joy at seeing her loved one in front of her, safe and sound.

"Ichigo!" she said, running over and throwing her arms around him. "It really is you!"

"Yeah, it is," he said with quiet satisfaction, returning the embrace and staying that way for a few precious moments before he remembered that Rukia was gravely injured. Backing away, his gaze turned to her stomach, concerned. Kuchiki raised an eyebrow in confusion, wondering why Ichigo was so preoccupied with her stomach all of a sudden.

"What's wrong, Ichigo?"

The orange-haired Soul Reaper looked at Rukia like she's just sprouted wings.

"What do you mean, 'what's wrong'? You got stabbed through the chest!"

"I did?" Rukia asked, looking down at her stomach and undoing some of the wrappings below her kimono to get a better look at the area Ichigo was so focused on. It didn't escape her notice that Ichigo didn't avert his gaze like he usually did, and Rukia smiled to herself before appraising her skin. When her fingers ran over the still-fading scar left by the sword at her side, the rush of memories crashed over Rukia and her eyes rolled back in her head as she fainted, shaking. Ichigo caught her before she hit the ground, waiting until Rukia had finished riding the jagged wave of memories. When her spasms had finished, she got to her feet and looked out into the horizon worriedly.

"We have to warn them, Ichigo," she said. "For all we know, Callos' army has already breached the Seireitei!"

"Relax, Rukia," Ichigo insisted, not wanting Rukia to do so much so quickly. "I told Renji to go warn Byakuya, so they'll have time to mount a defense. Right now, we need to get you to the Fourth Division."

"No! We have to go help them, Ichigo. I can make it, trust me," she pleaded. "My reiatsu healed the wound while we were traveling, so don't even try to pull the 'But Rukia, you're so injured' card or I'll smack you," she added more forcefully when she saw Ichigo open his mouth to speak. He shut up, then smirked.

"I'm not going to be able to convince you not to go, huh?"

Rukia smiled victoriously.

"Nope."

Ichigo sighed.

"Midget, I love you, but you're going to be the death of me."

Rukia was about to say something when she realized what Ichigo had just told her and her eyes went as wide as saucers.

"Wait; what did you just say, Ichigo?"

The orange-haired Soul Reaper became suddenly and agonizingly aware of what he had just let slip through his teeth and he looked at his feet, blushing furiously. Rukia gave a beaming smile and wanted to make Ichigo squirm for a bit, but they didn't have time for that. Flash-stepping forward so that her face was no more than an inch from his, the dark-haired Soul Reaper tilted her head up and kissed him.

Ichigo was caught completely off-guard, going from embarrassed to elated so quickly he didn't know how to react. Lost in an emotional haze, he just let himself go and ran with it. Wrapping one arm around her waist and nestling his other hand in her hair, Ichigo lifted her up to eye-level and returned the favor, pouring all of his bottled-up passion into the kiss. Rukia's eyes widened and then became half-lidded as she let out a stifled moan while Ichigo smirked mentally. While her mouth was open, Ichigo slipped his tongue in and his mental smirk grew even wider as he saw Rukia go rigid with shock. Determined to be on the winning side by the time this was over, Rukia mimicked Ichigo's action with even more force while she wrapped her legs around his waist, putting the orange-haired Soul Reaper back on his heels.

'Damn, she's good at this,' he thought with a bit of fear and a lot of anticipation. If they could survive this war, he was in for some very nice years to come.

The thought of the war, though, shoved Ichigo unceremoniously off of Cloud Nine and sent him hurtling down back to painful reality. Breaking out of the embrace, he took satisfaction in Rukia's disappointed mewl before becoming serious once more.

"Rukia, we have to go. Renji and Bykuya are probably waiting on us, if they haven't already started raising the alarm."

As much as Rukia wanted to stay this way until the sun went down, she agreed with Ichigo and untangled herself, turning her back to him and taking a step before changing her mind and giving him one last light kiss.

"I love you, too," she breathed as they parted, and Ichigo rewarded her words with a brilliant, genuine smile.

"Let's go," he said, ignoring the excited shiver racing up his spine as the two of them vanished.

* * *

Mortos walked calmly towards the chamber that had housed Saika, a cryptic smile on his face. When he saw that his son was gone and the only trace left were four piles of ash on the ground, his smile widened.

"Clearly, I had been looking for an heir in the wrong place this whole time," he mused, noting with satisfaction the demonic reiatsu still hanging in the air, "but that mistake is about to be corrected. I don't think I'll tell Callos that his brother is alive and coming for him… let's see how that brat handles his last stand."

Turning around and leaving the chamber, Mortos flash-stepped to his private chambers and sat on his throne, content for the first time in ages.

"Make me proud, Saika, my son."

* * *

Renji dashed towards the Seireitei like a man possessed, careful not to stray to close to the advancing legions. He had to tell Captain Kuchiki what was about to happen, and soon, or everyone was going to be in deep shit in a few hours. Looking over to his left one last time before making the final bolt to the Gates, Renji saw with surprise that the advancing demons had… stopped?

The army had ground to a complete halt several hundred yards from the actual walls of the Seireitei, staying just out of sight of the Gate guards and still cloaking their reiatsu. In short, they were completely invisible and still well within striking distance. Why were they stopping?

_They must have some sort of battle-plan,_ Renji thought as he increased his pace and bolted for the nearest Gate. _I have to get to Captain Kuchiki right away!_

* * *

"Why are we halting the troops so close to our goal, Lord Callos? They are still completely unaware of our presence!"

Callos looked off into the distance intently, a nagging feeling in the back of his head that something was very, very wrong. Suddenly a surge of reiatsu hit him like a brick wall and Callos' eyes widened in fear. He had felt that reiatsu once before, many, many moons ago as he watched his father duel with…

"Lord Hyorinmaru…" Callos said in disbelief, shuddering despite himself before reining his emotions in and assessing the situation like the General he was.

"An unexpected threat has just emerged, Captain," he said without a hint of fear in his voice, "and I have stopped our advance until it is dealt with. I will go and engage that beast myself, while the Horsemen will stay and watch over the troops in my absence. If anyone comes too close to us, eradicate them on sight. Otherwise, do _not_ move unless I explicitly order you to do so. Is that understood?"

The captain nodded firmly, saluting.

"Of course, Lord Callos. I shall relay your orders at once."

"You do that, Captain," the prince said with barely-veiled contempt as he flashed away to track down Hyorinmaru.

_What is he even doing here? No matter, after I kill him and bring his husk back to my father, he will finally recognize my worth! Hyorinmaru, your head is mine!_

* * *

Saika sat up slowly, stretching out his back and yawning.

"So, what'd I miss?" he asked drowsily, before looking around at the scene of carnage before him, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow both breathing harder than normal amidst a field of corpses.

"Oh."

"With all due respect, Aron-sama," Schiffer said with the lightest hint of anger in his voice, "the next time you decide to hibernate, please do so somewhere other than a Cerberus den."

"We've been killing these things for the past two fucking hours!" Grimmjow shouted, choosing the less-subtle approach.

Saika got to his feet and shook himself fully awake, the foul stench of so much death making sure he didn't drift back to sleep.

"My apologies, guys," he said. "Man, it smells like shit here. Let's go; it's been too long since I really cut loose and I'm spoiling for a fight."

Grimmjow flashed a bloodlust-driven grin.

"Amen to that," he said as Aron cut a rift open in front of him with Oujiscuro, stepping through it and into the Human World as his two soldiers followed behind him, Ulquiorra closing up the portal for good. Repeating the action once more, the three warriors found themselves running for dear life away from a Cleaner before diving through the other side of the gate, landing in a tangled mess on a grassy hill several miles from the Seireitei.

"I…hate you… so much…" Grimmjow growled at Saika, straining to separate himself from his boss and his fellow former Espada.

"Just shut up for a second, Grimmjow," Saika replied, "I think I almost have it. Right… _there_!"

The three compatriots separated all at once and stood up, about to start arguing about Saika's method of travel when they sensed the massive presence of Callos' army. Walking to the edge of the hill, the three of them took in the giant host of demons with no small amount of worry.

"Damn, he wasn't messing around," Grimmjow said, not thinking that the coward had it in him to be so aggressive.

"He even brought the Horsemen with him," Ulquiorra noticed, feeling a rare spark of fear as he imagined the four of them unchained and wreaking absolute havoc. Saika was focused on tracking down his brother's reiatsu and found it, but when he sensed what else was nearby he smiled viciously.

"Well, well," he said, "it looks like an old friend of ours has finally decided to get off his ass and show up. Callos is going to be tied up for a while, so we should hurry to the Seireitei and reinforce their ranks for when the real battle starts up. Come on."

The trio vanished, making for the walled city as fast as they could and hoping that none of the demons would get restless enough to start a premature attack.

* * *

Hitsugaya was racing towards the ranks of demons with unearthly speed, his normally green eyes shining blue under Hyorinmaru's influence. When a particularly strong burst of reiatsu appeared directly behind him, though, the warrior turned around to face his new threat and smiled.

"Callos, son of Mortos," Toshiro said in a voice that was deep, powerful and not entirely his own.

"We meet again."

The prince did not give up any ground in the face of his enemy, but his knees shook ever so slightly as he felt the force of the reiatsu Hyorinmaru was exuding. Whoever the dragon's new host was, his raw spiritual power was quite impressive. That strength, on top of Hyorinmaru's own power, made this foe quite deadly indeed. Gathering himself up, he readied himself for combat and spoke.

"Well met indeed, Lord Hyorinmaru," Callos sneered, "although I must say I have no interest in fighting children."

"Watch your tongue, demon," Toshiro/Hyorinmaru said in a voice that sounded much more like the pissed-off Captain of the Tenth Division. "If you call me a kid one more time, I swear I'll cut you up into a thousand tiny pieces!"

Callos smiled wickedly. If he could get far enough under his opponent's skin, this battle would be over quickly. Drawing his sword, the prince let his reiatsu rise to full strength as the ground around him trembled.

"Let's go, little dragon," he taunted, charging.

"You're dead, demon scum!" Hyorinmaru/Toshiro bellowed, eyes blazing as dark blue reiatsu flared around him and he lunged, crossing swords with his opponent as the clashing reiatsu exploded in their fury. After a moment spent in a deadlock, the two combatants disappeared entirely, reappearing only for moments at a time to strike and then move again, explosions of reiatsu marking each blow.

"Come on, you're better than this!" Callos shouted, reveling in the bloodlust and power that was coursing through him. "Show me your true power, Dragon of the Empyrean!"

"You wish to see our true power?" Hyorinmaru asked dangerously, speaking through Toshiro. "Very well, then. _Bankai!_"

It looked like Toshiro's normal _bankai_ at first, but a headpiece covered his eyes that looked like the upper part of a dragon's face, leaving only his mouth exposed. The spike in his reiatsu was astonishing, and Callos took a few steps back under the pressure while Hyorinmaru/Hitsugaya laughed spitefully.

"You asked to see this, demon. Don't tell us you're regretting your decision now, you coward?"

Callos bristled at being called a coward, and let his reiatsu rise even higher in his rage.

"No one calls me a coward and lives, you overgrown lizard. Prepare to feel my wrath!"

Toshiro/Hyorinmaru just laughed in the face of the threat as an orb of white energy began to gather in front of his head, pulsing and growing larger by the moment. When it was big enough the dragon roared, solidifying the energy into a huge spike of ice and sending it flying right at Callos' chest. The prince dodged the fatal blow for the most part, but the attack ripped his shoulder tendons on his right arm. The appendage hung limp and useless, blood gushing freely from the wound.

"Impressive," Toshiro/Hyorinmaru growled, the Captain's voice coming through as the dominant one. "Most would not have been able to dodge that strike at all. It seems your talent for running away can be put to other uses as well," he finished with a smirk.

"Go to hell, you bastard!"

Hitsugaya/Hyorinmaru gripped his sword in both hands, readying it for a strike and then charging.

"You first!" He shouted as the strikes were delivered, a blast of white light exploding out in the aftermath.

* * *

The Captain of Callos' legion hesitated in delivering his Lord's final orders, simmering in anger. They should be pounding down the gate and charging into the Seireitei, damn it, not sitting out here like cowards waiting for their enemies to find out they were there. What was the point of having the element of surprise if you didn't do anything with it? The Captain called over his lieutenant, who was by his side in an instant.

"Yes, Captain Tarsin, sir?"

"I want you to muster the legion, and prepare it for an assault on the nearest Gate into the Seireitei."

The soldier's eyes went wide.

"But… didn't I hear Lord Callos tell you not to move the legion unless he ordered you to?"

Tarsin frowned; he was hoping he wouldn't have to coerce his own subordinates.

"You don't see Lord Callos here, do you?" he asked, his voice laced with venom. The lieutenant shook his head negatively, shaking slightly. Tarsin smirked in victory.

"Of course you don't. Which makes me acting commander of the legion, and gives me the power to execute you on the grounds of treason if you disobey a direct order. So what's it gonna be, my friend? Are you going to muster the troops like I told you to?'

The soldier nodded frantically, flashing away. Tarsin's smirk grew into a smile.

"Good boy."

* * *

"Captain Kuchiki! Captain, wake up!" Renji shouted as he burst through the door, huffing and puffing. The Captain of Sixth Division looked over from his chair and locked eyes with his lieutenant, clearly perturbed at his sudden entrance.

"I was never asleep, Renji," he said evenly, the dark circles under his eyes not reflected at all in his tone. "What do you want?"

"Werescuedrukiabutnowtheresanarmyrightoutsideofthewallsanditsabouttoattack!"

Byakuya's only reaction to his lieutenant's tirade was a meticulously-raised eyebrow.

"What was that?"

Renji took a deep breath and gathered himself together before giving it another try.

"We rescued Rukia, but now there's an army right outside of the walls, and it's about to attack!" he repeated, with less volume but no less force.

"I see," Kuchiki replied, clearly not believing what he had just been told. Renji picked up on his Captain's skepticism and sagged.

"You don't believe a word of what I just said, do you?"

"When I see Rukia with my own eyes, I might give your words some more weight. Until then, no."

"If seeing me is all it will take, then here I am, Nii-sama."

Byakuya and Renji both turned to face the speaker, the Captain's eyes widening in shock as he saw Rukia standing a few paces in front of Ichigo Kurosaki, a relieved smile on her face.

"Rukia…?" Byakuya asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Rukia's smile grew wider.

"I'm home, Nii-sama."

Throwing decorum to the winds, Byakuya strode forward and pulled Rukia into a heartfelt embrace, the weight that had been over his heart since her abduction lifting at last. Rukia was taken aback initially by her brother's display of affection, but returned the embrace after a moment.

"I knew you would return," he whispered, the familial love Rukia had always known he had for her showing through in that precious moment.

"Always," she answered, hugging her brother tighter for a moment before letting go. Byakuya straightened up in an instant, his face as impassive as ever. He turned to Ichigo and Renji, an icy gleam in his eye.

"If either of you tell anyone about what you just saw, Senbonzakura will carve your faces from your skulls. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir, Captain Kuchiki!" they both said in unison, saluting perfectly as Rukia fought hard to hold back a bout of laughter.

"Good," the Captain replied, turning his attention to Rukia. "Now, Rukia," he said, "tell me what happened to you."

Rukia laid everything out, including her attainment of _bankai_, which shocked all three men in the room. By the time she had gotten to the end of her story, Byakuya's look had changed completely, now suffused with pride at his sister's achievement but also furious at those who had put her through so much suffering. There was one detail, however, that he had trouble stomaching.

"So you say Saika Aron is alive? How can that be?"

"I'm not entirely sure myself, Nii-sama, but I can tell you without a shred of doubt that he is alive, and he's coming to aid us. He was the one who kept me safe all of this time and trained me to reach _bankai_, like I said."

"I heard you mention his name, Rukia," Byakuya replied, "I just could not bring myself to believe that Aron could still draw breath. No doubt there will be several people who will be most pleased to hear that news. But enough reminiscing; what is this about an army at our gates?"

Suddenly a thunderous crash reverberated throughout the Seireitei, and the four Soul Reapers rushed outside to see that one of the massive Gates had fallen, torn from its hinges.

"That's them," Ichigo said, shifting into _bankai_. "You ready?"

Renji nodded, calling out Zabimaru. Rukia unleashed her _bankai_ as well, and Byakuya drew his sword, saying everything in his stance. The sound of the Gate falling had alerted the other Captains to the intruders, and one by one they appeared out of thin air. First came Soi Fong, accompanied by Yoruichi. Sajin Komamura was next, with Iba close behind. Urahara appeared moments later, much to the surprise of Ichigo.

"Hat-and-Clogs?!" he shouted, and Urahara grinned.

"Guess they just couldn't live without me," he said.

Nemu was the next to show, accompanied by Neliel. When the former Espada saw Ichigo, she gave him a huge smile and ran over, hugging him.

"Ichigo! It's so good to see you again!"

"Nel… can't… breathe…" Ichigo wheezed out, and Nel let go with an embarrassed look before using _sonido_ to get away from a jealous-looking Rukia, returning to Nemu's side.

Jushiro Ukitake and Shunsui Kyoraku were next, followed closely by their lieutenants. Shuhei Hisagi arrived wearing the _haori_ of the Ninth Division, having finally accepted the position at the urging of his friends and superiors. Momo and Rangiku appeared looking nervous, upset that they hadn't been able to find Toshiro after the Gate had been breached and wondering where he could be. Izuru showed up next, hoping that he wasn't too late. At long last Kenpachi Zaraki charged through a nearby building's wall to join the crowd, an excited Yachiru at his shoulder.

"All right, would someone tell me what the hell is going on?" The Captain bellowed.

"Unwelcome visitors, Captain," Urahara said jovially. "They seem to have been kept waiting for so long that they decided to break down our door."

"Well, that's just poor manners, Ken-chan!" Yachiru chirped. "We should teach them a lesson!"

"Now you're talkin', kid," Zaraki said as he drew his zanpakuto, grinning like a madman.

"**Soul Reapers!**" A voice boomed through the air, enhanced by kido for maximum force. "**Your end has come! I, the Greater Demon Tarsin, shall be your bane!**"

"He's got a flair for the theatrical, this one," Yoruichi said, rolling her eyes. Evil thugs were all the same.

"**Do not mock me, woman!**" the voice shouted back. "**I will be sure to make your end protracted and painful for your insolence! But enough of this talk. Attack, my warriors!**"

At his command, a horde of demonic soldiers assembled before and around the fallen gate, murder in their eyes and reiatsu. A leader, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"So you'll send grunts to do your dirty work, but you're too cowardly to fight yourself? Pathetic!" Ichigo said, disgusted with whoever the demon was who called himself leader of this army.

"**Hold your tongue, child,**" Tarsin's voice said harshly. "**You will see the manifestation of my true powers presently. **_**Raise the cry of the bloodlust, Araeas!**_**"**

As soon as the incantation was complete, the soldiers were covered in a dark orange aura, their strength tripling at once. Tarsin appeared at the head of his army in full demonic armor, laughing victoriously.

"**This battle is over, Soul Reaper scum!**"

Silence reigned in the brief moment before battle was joined, both sides tense. But before anyone could move to attack, the silence was broken by the sound of someone… laughing?

"Over? Did you say it was over, Tarsin?"

The demon lieutenant and the assembled Soul Reapers looked over at the source of the voice, and Tarsin's eyes went wide with fear while the Soul Reapers' expressions ranged from shock to stunned happiness.

"Aron…" Tarsin breathed, not believing what he saw in front of his eyes.

"Saika!?" Jushiro half-shouted, shocked by the sudden reappearance of the person he had thought of as his own son during Aron's time as an Officer and later as a Captain.

"Good to see you too, pops," Saika replied, flashing a wolfish grin to the stunned Captain.

"It's about time you showed up, sensei," Rukia said, glad that her teacher had stayed true to his word.

Zaraki smirked, knowing that he'd been right about his former rival.

"It's about time you showed up, mongrel," he said, using the nickname he knew Aron hated so much. Saika glared at the Eleventh Division Captain, giving him the finger.

"Fuck you, Tinkerbell."

Ichigo let out a spontaneous chuckle at Kenpachi's nickname, but a death-glare from Zaraki shut him up. Yoruichi didn't know quite how to feel about the sudden reappearance of her former lieutenant, but she found some small comfort in knowing that once they got out of this mess, there would be plenty of time to drill him for answers.

Tarsin was terrified by this sudden turn of events, but he tried hard not to show it. Summoning all of his bravado, he spoke to the former General.

"I see you came without your hounds, Aron. What, you finally grow a spine?"

"One, we really don't like it when people call us that," Grimmjow said, emerging from the shadows to Saika's left. "It really pisses us off."

"Two," Ulquiorra added as he emerged to Saika's right, "do you honestly think we'd miss the chance to destroy an entire legion of your soldiers?"

"Ulquiorra; Grimmjow," Saika said, turning his attention to his Captains, "deal with these maggots."

"With pleasure, Aron-sama," Ulquiorra said, drawing Carnefice and vanishing.

Grimmjow gave a huge, bloodthirsty grin, looking over at the demons like a panther stalking a wounded antelope.

"You guys are _so_ fucked," he hissed gleefully, unsheathing Pantera before vanishing. As the two former Espada tore through the ranks of soldiers like trained warriors they were, Saika turned his attention to a now-visibly afraid Tarsin.

"You should be honored that your blood is worthy of being shed by my blade, Tarsin," the orange-eyed prince said, his voice laced with killing intent as he readied Oujiscuro for battle.

"This ends now."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Man, that took a while to write. Sorry for the wait; I hope you enjoyed it, and that there weren't any slow parts. **Please review** if you can, it's awesome to know that you're reading the story and like it (or dislike it) enough to tell me so. Hopefully there was a satisfying payoff in that chapter, and things will get even more intense next chapter now that everyone has reunited again. So stay tuned, and thanks for reading!


	10. No Mercy

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any of its characters, Tite Kubo does. I do, however, claim ownership to all original characters and ideas present in this story; don't steal them or use them without permission, because that's just not cool.

**Author's Note:** Just a quick note before we begin, I'd like to thank all of the people who made last chapter my highest-reviewed installment yet (good times!): **Blekmedelninjan**, **XxIceFurXx**, **Revived Sin**, **Music-Warrior-Nightsong** and, last but certainly not least, **MatsuMama**. Thank you also to everyone else who has reviewed in the past, it means a ton.

* * *

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 10:** No Mercy

* * *

The four figures sat on their mounts at the crest of the hill and waited, their cloaks flapping idly in the breeze as they observed the battle going on in the distance.

"I say we ride in and sweep these insects aside all at once, Tarsin included," a burly figure with a thick, black beard and equally dark eyes said, his rumbling voice evoking the chaos from which he drew his name. A pale woman next to him crossed her arms delicately, giving the slightest of chuckles.

"You are too hasty, my love," she replied. "Give them time, and sooner or later they will all come to me. We shall let this play out, and see how many are left standing in the aftermath."

"I can feel the infections forming in their wounds, brother," a scarred, bald horseman with a raspy voice spoke to his twin, who sat next to him. "Soon, there will be nothing to save them from the sickness that will clench their hearts and make them rot from the inside out!"

"They think they can stay within their high walls and survive this siege, brother," the final horseman said, his wasted figure and drawn face making his feverish, hungry eyes burn all the brighter. "But I will take their food from them, and watch them writhe in hunger for days before I rob them of their water and gaze upon their withered forms as they waste away into nothingness before the famine."

So the Four Horsemen stood assembled and waited, reining in their instincts for the time being. After a few moments War's dark eyes shifted their gaze and he smiled.

"It looks as though the young prince has bitten off more than he can chew, my Lady," he said. "Do you think you will pay him a visit presently?"

The pale woman shook her head.

"As much as I would like to, my love," Death answered, "it will not be his time for a while yet. He may stand on the threshold between the two worlds, but I cannot push him one way or the other."

The dark-eyed man sighed.

"That grieves me deeply, my Lady. I despise cowards like him, and those who cannot rule their troops effectively. If it were the older prince who commanded us, this battle would have already been decided."

"Be that as it may, my love, he fights for the enemy now. When the time is right, we will cut him down as we have been ordered to whether or not royal blood flows in his veins."

"I just wish Callos would return and give the order," Pestilence rasped in a half-whine. "There's someone in particular I need to pay a visit, in order to conclude some long-unfinished business."

"Why you didn't just kill him all that time ago, brother, I will never understand," Famine said. His scarred sibling just shrugged.

"I was having a good day, and I felt like being generous. It does not matter, in any case. Soon, I will cause his disease to bloom in his blood and he will fall, my greatest victim yet."

The four harbingers stood lost in their own thoughts, ageless and powerful. When the order came down they would ride once again, and Hell would follow behind them.

* * *

Inside the Seireitei, all Hell had, quite literally, broken loose. As Saika stood locked in a duel with the berserker Tarsin, the Captains of the 13 Divisions found their hands full with bloodthirsty, ravenous demons. The two former Espada-turned-half demons, however, were having fun.

"That's twelve for me, Schiffer!" Grimmjow taunted, slicing yet another grunt in two. "How many've you killed?"

"I don't do something as juvenile as keep track of my kills, Jaegerjaques. This is not a game," Ulquiorra replied, his hand striking and ripping out a demon's heart with surgical precision.

"You're just saying that because you know I'd win if we did keep score," the blue-haired warrior shot back, grinning madly and laughing as he found himself surrounded by a ring of aura-enhanced demons.

"Finally. It's about time you maggots started taking me seriously!" he shouted, charging forward with his sword poised to strike.

"If I didn't know any better, Kisuke," Yoruichi said to her best friend in between strikes, "I'd say you were truly enjoying yourself for the first time since we got exiled."

Urahara smiled roguishly.

"Well, it is nice to have these robes back," he admitted, "but that's nothing compared to fighting against these demons. I've never seen anything like them, Yoruichi-san. I'll have so much new data to analyze tonight it almost makes my head spin!"

The Shihoin princess rolled her eyes, venting her frustration with her friend's addiction to science on a poor demon with a particularly vicious punch.

"You never quit, do you?"

Urahara laughed.

"I wouldn't be a true man of science if I did that, now would I?"

Benihime sang as she danced through the air with cold, calculating precision, absorbing a trace amount of both the reiatsu amplifier and the demon energy itself for later analysis.

Meanwhile, Rukia was testing the ever-expanding limit of her _bankai_ with a valkyrie's delight, carving a frozen swath of destruction through the enemy's ranks. When a group of about ten heavily-armored axe-wielders appeared in front of her, a smirk crossed Rukia's face as she thought of a way to take them all out at once. Forming a thin wall of ice in front of her, she formed cracks in numerous places and held her hand out, palm open.

"Scatter."

The wall of ice promptly turned into hundreds upon hundreds of razor-sharp ice flakes that surged forward with a shrill whistle and cut the demons to shreds. As Rukia admired her work with satisfaction, a scornful snort sounded behind her and she turned her head to behold her brother, Senbonsakura unsheathed and adorned with drops of black blood that rolled down its blade like sweat.

"I thought I raised you to be more inventive than that."

Rukia's smirk turned into a smile.

"You know, they have a saying in the Human world, Nii-sama: 'Imitation is the highest form of flattery.'"

The young Kuchiki thought she saw the tiniest of smiles curve her brother's lips upwards, but it was gone before she could be sure.

"Typical human foolishness," he said before flash-stepping away. Rukia's smile grew wider and she vanished in turn, this time seeking out a particular orange-haired Soul Reaper.

"Man, this is boring," Ichigo groused as he blew through his latest opponent. A laugh drew his attention over to his left, where Kenpachi Zaraki was yanking his zanpakuto out of some demon's skull.

"You want a real fight, Ichigo," he growled, "just say the word."

Kurosaki couldn't stop his hair from standing up on the back of his neck out of habit.

"Why don't we wait until _after_ the bloodthirsty demons are all dead, Kenpachi?" he said, hoping that would shut up the 11th Division Captain. Unfortunately, that just gave him another opening.

"Fine by me. But when all of these slugs are dead I'm gonna hold you to your word, Ichigo."

The Soul Reaper shivered, realizing what he'd just done, as Zaraki gave him a murderous smile and Yachiru started to cheer.

"Yay! Ichy and Ken-chan are going to play together again. That'll be a lot of fun, right, Ken-chan?"

"Yeah, Yachiru," the Captain replied as he cut through more demons with renewed purpose, "it most certainly will be."

Ichigo, on the other hand, was far from happy and felt like letting one of the demon grunts end his misery before a familiar laugh brought him back to reality.

"I can't believe you just challenged Captain Kenpachi to a rematch, Ichigo," Rukia said. "You really _are_ as stupid as I thought."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Ichigo snapped back. "He misinterpreted… you know what, I don't have to take this from you, short-stack."

Rukia's smile turned into a murderous glare as she shoved an ice-katana behind her, right through the chest of a hapless demon. Ichigo felt another shiver crawl up his spine, but he forced himself not to show it. If normal Rukia was intimidating when she got angry, _bankai_ Rukia was downright terrifying.

"_What_ did you just call me, Ichigo?" she asked, yanking her blade out of the demon and brandishing it at her loved one.

"N—nothing, Rukia," he replied, "nothing at all."

She smiled evilly, and Ichigo knew that it was going to take a lot of work now if he ever wanted to wear the pants again, so to speak.

"That's what I thought," she said, dropping the glare and giving Ichigo a heartfelt kiss.

"Be safe," she said seriously, before vanishing. The brown-eyed Soul Reaper was still reeling slightly over the kiss when he heard a deeper chuckle and turned, seeing Renji with a smirk on his face performing a certain demeaning gesture complete with sound effects.

"Someone's whipped," he said, and Ichigo just stared daggers at his friend.

"I hate you," he shot back, flash-stepping away to go kill something while Renji's laugh echoed behind him.

"Man, I am _so_ much better at this than you!" Grimmjow shouted as he racked up kill number two-hundred something, running after a pack of terrified demons. "You're an embarrassment to the number four, Schiffer."

"Shut up, Jaegerjaques," Ulquiorra replied, angered that his comrade's constant trash-talking was starting to throw off his concentration.

"Someone knows I'm right," Grimmjow said with an almost singsong lilt to his voice, his taunts provoking the former fourth Esapda into obliterating a group of demons with a completely unnecessary _gran rey cero_.

"You two never quit, do you?" an amused voice said as a third figure broke into their fight, green hair flashing in Ulquiorra's peripheral vision. Grimmjow turned to face the new arrival and smiled, his eyes flashing.

"Why would I, when I'm having so much fun? By the way, Nel," the former sixth Espada said after giving her a quick once-over, "you're lookin' particularly nice today."

Neliel gave her one-time comrade an exasperated glare. She knew he was just saying that to get under Ulquiorra's skin, but still.

"You disgust me, Grimmjow," she said, although not without a hint of a smile to take the sting off of her words. She was slightly unnerved by his constant lust for battle, but it wasn't self-destructive like Nnoitra's had been; Grimmjow was a true warrior, and Neliel had a level of respect for him that had not extended to the chauvinistic backstabber.

"Whatever," Grimmjow said, smiling internally as he saw Ulquiorra shoot him the most murderous look he had ever seen the green-eyed Espada give over Nel's shoulder. "Whenever you wise up and change your mind, let me know."

Nel slashed Gamuza through a nearby demon and chuckled.

"Keep dreaming, Jaegerjaques."

Schiffer had to use all of his impulse control to keep from unsealing Carnifice and cutting Grimmjow up into countless pieces, but he just barely managed it. Venting his anger instead on the stronger variety of demon that had finally emerged to challenge them, the normally stoic Espada began carving through his enemies with abandon. He was so caught up in letting his anger out the Ulquiorra didn't become aware of the blade descending towards his back until it was almost upon him, cursing his weakness as he braced himself for the pain.

But it did not come. Instead, the sound of steel clashing upon steel reached Schiffer's ears and he turned slowly, seeing that Neliel had put herself in between the sword and her friend, blocking the blow with her _hierro_-enhanced skin. Vaporizing the attacker with a casually-fired _bala_, she spoke to the former fourth Espada.

"How many times am I going to have to tell you to watch your back, Ulquiorra?" she teased, and Schiffer sighed in as much embarrassment as he could allow.

"I am once again in your debt, it seems," he said, as a ring of demons began tightening around the back-to-back Espada. Neliel gave a small smile Ulquiorra couldn't see and readied her zanpakuto, while Schiffer did the same with Carnefice.

"Don't mention it," she replied. "After all, that's what friends do, right?" she said calmly, and Ulquiorra's expression softened ever-so-slightly in gratitude before he forced it back to normal, focusing on the skirmish about to erupt before him. He couldn't afford to be distracted, not now.

"Are you ready, Sir?" he asked, making a point to himself by not saying her name.

"Always," Nel answered, getting ready to attack. "And for the last time, stop calling me that!" she half-shouted as the two of them began to fight once again, the sound of steel crashing upon steel drowning out the small chuckle Ulquiorra had given at his former superior's reaction.

Some things never changed.

"It looks like your _Araeas_ aura isn't doing much good, Tarsin," Saika remarked pointedly as he blocked yet another strike from the bullish Greater Demon. "Don't tell me you're losing your touch?"

Tarsin raged forward and swung his blade down hard, scoring a blow that ran from Aron's shoulder-blade down to his sternum.

"Do not mock me, you half-breed!" he shouted, eyes flaring as he summoned the more powerful legionaries to the field with a telepathic command.

"A pathetic bastard like you will never reach the heights of power possessed by us pure-blood demons. Behold the secret arts known to my clan, and tremble before their power. _Rain your wrath from the sky, Shi'vornash!_"

When the incantation was finished thunder sounded in the heavens and meteor-like bodies of dark energy screamed down to the battlefield, enveloping the elite demon legionaries in shrouds of powerful, chaotic reiatsu. The Soul Reapers and their allies suddenly found themselves on their heels, faced with a foe exponentially more deadly than the grunts they had previously been cutting through like wheat. Saika was seemingly unmoved, but one of his eyes followed Yoruichi's form with worry until he was sure she and Urahara had the situation under control. Turning his full attention back to Tarsin, he shrugged.

"I've seen better," he said coolly, hoping to incite his enemy into a blind, uncontrolled rage. When the Greater Demon roared and charged Saika knew he'd succeeded, but as he barely dodged a vicious attack he was wondering if he might have succeeded a little too much.

"What's the matter, Aron? You too afraid to stop blocking and start attacking? Is that it? Hah, the great General Saika Aron, son of Lord Mortos himself, is secretly a yellow-bellied coward? That's too much. How did you even get promoted so high, runt?"

Saika smirked as he blocked another strike from Tarsin, the words from the first lesson Yoruichi had given him flashing through his mind.

"_Always study your opponent's defense as you attack, and work to understand his attacks as you defend. Knowing how to strike is meaningless if you don't know when or where to attack._"

"How did I get promoted so high?" Saika repeated, and then he grinned wolfishly.

"Let me show you. Rise, Oujiscuro!"

Tarsin staggered back as the power spike hit him, but he kept his footing. The son of Mortos now stood in front of him in his 'true' form, fangs glinting in the sunlight as his dark orange eyes smoldered with bloodlust.

"What's the matter, Tarsin?" he asked, smiling. "Having second thoughts?"

The berserker gave a feral laugh, ecstatic that he had been able to force Saika into drawing out his inner strength. Releasing his own barriers that he had been using to conserve his energy, Tarsin hefted his sword once more and challenged his nemesis.

"Not in the slightest, half-breed. Come on!"

The two flash-stepped away to a more open space, not wanting to be distracted by the melee around them. Grimmjow noticed this and made to follow, but Ulquiorra's voice stopped him.

"Where do you think you are going, Jaegerjaques?"

"The boss is about to beat the shit out of someone, and I want to see it."

"And how do you think it will look to the Soul Reapers if you leave the field in the middle of combat?"

Grimmjow gave a harsh chuckle.

"Do you think I give a fuck about what they think, Schiffer? You think that I'm going to grovel for their approval? Don't make me laugh; we're always going to be Espada to them, regardless of what we do. I'm only fighting because it's the boss' orders, and nothing more. Those Soul Reaper scum don't like me being here, fuck 'em. They want to fight me, I'll run 'em through. They aren't my friends, Ulquiorra, and they certainly won't warm up to someone like you any time soon. If you want to be their hound, though, be my guest. See ya," he finished, vanishing to go watch his master fight.

Ulquiorra heard a sigh behind him and turned around to see that Neliel had hung her head, Grimmjow's words clearly cutting her more deeply than she wanted to admit.

"They call me a monster."

Ulquiorra's eyes widened ever-so-slightly at Nel's uncharacteristically anguished whisper, and he took a step towards her on reflex.

"What?"

The former third Espada raised her head, and Schiffer saw that her eyes were damp with barely restrained tears.

"After all I've done for them, after all of the times I fought to protect them, they still call me a monster. It's not fair, Ulquiorra. It's not fair!"

The sudden outburst of emotion and reiatsu caught Schiffer off-guard and he staggered slightly, but it was the sight that greeted him once the dust cleared that actually shocked him. Nel was still in front of him, and still emotionally distressed.

But Nel now looked like a six-year-old girl. The green-haired Espada looked down at her small hands, and the enormity of the situation crashed down on her as a few wounded demons advanced on her hungrily, payback in their eyes.

"Oh, fwuk," she said, her eyes wide with fear. Before any of them could strike, however, the discordant hum of a _cero_ tore through the air and annihilated the would-be attackers, leaving wisps of ash in their places.

"We're even, Sir," Ulquiorra said, feeling weird himself saying that to a six-year-old, but still refusing to call her by her name. The former fourth Espada found himself caught off-guard for the second time when something hard suddenly rammed into his chest and sent him skidding backwards. When he stopped moving, Ulquiorra looked down to see that Nel had head-butt him, and now had her small but tenacious arms wrapped securely around his waist. She looked up at him, and Schiffer felt a rare surge of anger towards the deceased Nnoitra when he saw the now-prominent scar on her face.

"Thank'u, Ulqiorwa," she said with her normal serious, despite being trapped in this other form. Still, he couldn't help but give a small smirk at the way she butchered his name. Her expression of gratitude quickly shifted into one of childish fury.

"What's so fwunny?!"

"Nothing," he said, finding himself biting back his first genuine laugh since, well… since he'd become a Hollow. Nel let go of him and crossed her arms petulantly, frowning.

"You're an ashwhole, Schwiffer."

Ulquiorra was almost blue in the face now, wishing that the demons weren't all scared shitless of him so that he'd have someone to fight. As it stood, he was perilously close to showing actual emotions, and he couldn't let himself slide down that path again. Forcing his mirth down with a mighty struggle, the former fourth Espada put his stoic mask back on and looked over to where the Soul Reaper Captains were slugging it out with the other demon legionaries. Most of them had resorted to _bankai_ at this point, and he noted with interest that Kurosaki had donned his Hollow mask. Whenever he did that it meant that he was serious about the battle, and copious bloodshed was sure to follow.

"Itsygo's gettin' tired o' pwaying around," Nel observed, and as Ulquiorra watched him cut down even the Praetorian Demons with frightening ease he couldn't help but feel a brief flash of fear, his hand unconsciously tracing the scar on his chest where Tensa Zangetsu had delivered his deathblow. Looking down at the former third Espada, Ulquiorra motioned with his head towards the fray.

"I am going to assist them," he said, although even he wasn't entirely sure why he felt like helping the Soul Reapers. "You stay here, and don't move."

Nel sat down on a rock and nodded, her gaze deadly serious.

"Come back," she said, and Schiffer locked eyes with her before replying.

"Of course." Then he was gone, and Nel sighed. Would he ever open up?

* * *

Hitsugaya and Callos stood apart, backs facing each other post-strike. Toshiro's _bankai_ had shattered under the sheer pressure of the attack, and Hyorinmaru's blue reiatsu was gone from his eyes. Callos was in much worse shape; lacerated and bleeding, he drew breath in shaky gasps and wiped the blood away that was dripping into his eyes.

"Damn you, dragon," he cursed, falling to his knees and then slumping over completely, lying in the grass as his life-force continued to ebb away from him. Hitsugaya walked over and was about to give the prince his deathblow when the cascade of reiatsu inside the Seireitei hit him at long last, and the Captain realized he was needed elsewhere. As he looked down at his enemy, Hitsugaya noticed that he had stopped breathing and moving altogether. Confident that his job had been finished, Toshiro didn't wait a second longer to join his friends and vanished, hoping that Momo and Matsumoto were holding up fine without him.

As he felt Hitsugaya's reiatsu fade and disappear, Callos drew in a shaky breath and forced himself to his hands and knees. Coward that he was, the prince had turned playing dead into an art form. Turning all of his reiatsu inward, he was able to heal his wounds and appear to be dead at the same time, waiting until his foe dropped their guard before striking. As it stood, he needed to get back to his camp as quickly as possible.

He had some horses to let out of their stalls. Tomorrow morning, at dawn, the Four Horsemen would raze the Seireitei to the ground, and Callos would able to face his father with honor. He would see Mortos look upon him with affection, with pride, and then all of these wounds would be worth it.

But that wasn't until tomorrow morning. For now, he needed a medic and some rest. He rose painfully to his feet, barking various curses of vengeance at his enemies in the ancient tongue of the demons before vanishing.

* * *

Saika and Tarsin had stopped at the summit of Soukyoku Hill, and were now dueling each other with no concern for themselves or the environment around them. Reiatsu flared to incredible proportions, with the occasional line of black splattering on the dry, cracked earth. The ground seemed to drink it up eagerly; the Hill had a fondness for destruction and death, instilled over the ages as souls had been obliterated on it by its namesake blade. As Saika landed what felt like the 100th attack against his enemy and Tarsin showed very little sign of slowing down, much less dying, he began to wonder if he was getting weaker or Tarsin was getting stronger. The Greater Demon smiled as he saw Saika's thoughts play out across his face.

"I see you've come to realize why it is you can't win, half-breed," he taunted. "Why do you think I led you here? This place is rife with dark reiatsu, years and years and years of bloodshed, grief, hatred and pain stagnating and waiting for someone like me to anchor them. You see, only a pure demon like me, who has fully acknowledged his ties to the darkness, can wield this power to its fullest extent. As long as I am fuelled by it, your pathetic sword strikes cannot harm me, much less kill me. Prepare to meet your end, Saika."

Tarsin tensed for a moment and his reiatsu flared mightily, the negative energies of the Hill flooding into him and giving him strength. Determined to stop him before he became too powerful, Saika lunged forward and struck with all of his might, forcing Tarsin off-balance. As the Greater Demon's foot left the ground, Aron saw that the energy from the Hill stopped flowing into that part of his body. Seeing what was going on, the orange-eyed warrior smiled. He still had a chance, all thanks to a story he had been read by Jushiro Ukitake when he was a boy.

In this story, a warrior of old by the name of Hercules had been forced to fight a man by the name of Antaeus, who was a son of Gaia, the Earth Mother, and drew his strength from her. As long as his feet touched the ground, he was completely invincible. To defeat him, Hercules had used his superior brute strength to lift Antaeus off of the ground, crushing him to death.

All Saika had to do was get Tarsin off of the ground, away from the Hill, and the rest was easy. So his kendo wouldn't do him any good? That was fine by him.

He'd been waiting to cut loose with his _kido_, which he couldn't use in Hell, for a long, long time. While Tarsin's leg was still off of the ground, Saika slid back to make some space and raised his hand outward, readying a spell.

"_Bakudo number 9: Geki._"

The red light slammed into Tarsin's leg, completely paralyzing it. It wasn't until his shifting weight caused him to lose balance that Tarsin tried to disable the _kido_, but it was too late. As soon as he hit the ground, Saika threw another spell at him.

"_Hado number 58: Tenran._"

A whirlwind shot out from Aron's outstretched hands, becoming wider and wider as it lunged towards its prey. The cyclone swept Tarsin up before he could draw enough power from Soukyoku Hill, forcing him high into the air. Saika grinned wolfishly as he cracked his knuckles, warming up mentally for round two. It had been ages since he'd practiced the spell he was going to throw at this son of a bitch, and he wanted to make sure he had time to say the incantation. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, he decided to dispel the whirlwind before casting a binding spell instead.

"_Bakudo number 61: Rikujokoro._"

Six pillars of light surrounded Tarsin on all sides and held him in place as he wriggled like a fish on a hook, cursing until he was almost foaming at the mouth. Grimmjow, who had lurked in the shadows until now, chose to make his presence known and took a few steps towards his boss. Saika, who had closed his eyes in concentration, raised a single eyebrow and spoke without turning.

"Why are you here, Grimmjow?"

Jaegerjaques shrugged.

"I just wanted to see the fireworks. How're you gonna finish this bastard off?"

"You will see soon enough, my friend. Oh, and Grimmjow?"

"Yeah?"

"On the rare occasions I decide to give them, orders are orders. You would do well to keep that in mind, and know that the next time you abandon your post for something as frivolous as watching me fight I will do far worse to you than cutting off your arm. Do we understand each other, my friend?"

Saika reminded Grimmjow of Aizen in that moment, but he respected the orange-eyed Prince enough to take him seriously. He swallowed his pride and nodded.

"Yes, we understand each other."

"Good," Saika said, finishing his meditating and rising. Taking one final breath, he looked over his shoulder at his Captain and grinned wickedly.

"Get a good seat, somewhere high up," he said. "You're gonna love this part."

Grimmjow grinned in kind and used _sonido_ to perch up on a newly-formed spire that had been created by Saika and Tarsin's brawling. Saika looked up at his target, smiled, and began to chant.

"_Oh vengeful Gods of Old, hear my plea_…"

* * *

Around the time when Saika and Tarsin had just reached Soukyoku Hill, the Soul Reaper Captains noticed that the horde of demons was finally beginning to thin out. Their morale rising, they surged forward and Ichigo allowed himself to relax, having done a sizable chunk of the fighting himself. Just as he let his guard down and took off his Hollow mask, a wounded demon forced itself up from the ground on its one remaining arm and lunged at the Soul Reaper, too quickly for Ichigo to bring his sword up to block it. Before the brute could strike, however, a shield of ice formed and stopped the charge. As soon as the demon halted, the shield morphed into a spike and lodged itself mercilessly in the monster's chest, killing it for good. The orange-haired Soul Reaper turned around, relieved, only to find himself inches away from a very irate Rukia Kuchiki. She brought her hand back and smacked Ichigo across the face before he knew what was going on, sending him back a few steps. He was stopped when a pair of arms encircled his waist, pulling him forward again. Kurosaki looked down to see that Rukia was now hugging him fiercely, tears dotting the corners of her eyes.

"Damn it, Ichigo, you idiot," she said, "don't ever do that again, you hear me? I thought you were going to—"

Ichigo cut off her last word by tilting her head up at the same time he leaned down, kissing her gently and wiping a tear away from her cheek. He parted from her after a moment, relieved to see that she had calmed down somewhat, although her breath was still heaving. After a moment of tense silence, Rukia all but leapt up and kissed Ichigo passionately, anchoring herself with her legs around his waist to make sure he wouldn't go anywhere. Ichigo was too busy wondering how she could go from enraged to crying to so aggressively affectionate, but he just chalked it up to the fact that she was Rukia and went along with it. They stayed like that for several moments, until reiatsu flared nearby that was so strong it knocked Rukia off of Ichigo and flat on her ass. Getting up in a huff, the young Kuchiki turned and was about to berate the person who had interrupted her until she saw who it was.

Byakuya's face wore a multilayered expression, but the most predominant emotion on it was disdain.

"If you truly desire to bestow your affections upon this unworthy peasant, Rukia," he said calmly, "please do so somewhere I cannot see it. Now I am doubtful as to whether or not I will be able to stomach dinner, and that upsets me a great deal."

"M—My apologies, Nii-sama," Rukia forced out after a few moments, while Ichigo was silent as stone. "It will not happen again… in public, anyway," she finished in a mumble, not willing to concede the entire argument to her brother.

Byakuya nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response, and began to walk away before stopping, speaking to Ichigo without turning his head.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," he said, and Ichigo found the strength to speak once again.

"Yeah, Byakuya?"

If he was upset about being called by his first name, the Kuchiki noble did not show it. Instead, he simply continued as if Ichigo hadn't said anything, his voice as sharp as the blade of Senbonsakura.

"If you break her heart, I _will_ kill you."

Yoruichi, who happened to be nearby finishing off a lingering demon with _shunko_, came over and tried to calm the understandably nervous teenager.

"He doesn't really mean it, Ichigo. Right, Byakuya-bo?"

Byakuya gave the Shihoin princess a look that made even her pale, and she turned back to Ichigo.

"Actually, it looks like he _does_ mean it, Ichigo."

"Most emphatically," Byakuya said before he vanished, leaving Yoruichi feeling especially awkward.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, kid," she said lamely, trying to think of something more convincing to say when a heinously huge spike of reiatsu grabbed her attention, along with every other Captain. It felt like Captain Hitsugaya, but it was blended with something else, almost to the point that the two reiatsu had joined completely to become something entirely different, and much more powerful. But just who… or what… was it?

Yoruichi's question was answered when a huge barrage of oversized icicles stormed down on the heads of the few surviving demons, wiping out the last remnants of the legion in one fell swoop. Everyone looked over at Rukia in shock, but she just shrugged.

"Wasn't me," she said, and everyone was confused for a few moments before Momo let out a shout of delight, running over to the left.

"Shiro-chan!" she said, launching herself at her childhood friend in relief and glee.

"We were so worried when we couldn't find you," she said into his shoulder. "Where have you been?"

"Dealing with an old enemy," he said, the traces of Hyorinmaru's voice making Momo look up in surprise, where an even bigger shock awaited her.

"What happened to your eyes, Toshiro?"

Hitsugaya realized that not all of the traces of his transformation had vanished and he closed his eyes tightly, only opening them back up when he knew they were back to normal.

"Nothing, Momo. See? They're just fine," he said, cursing inwardly as his best friend's intelligent eyes saw right through him.

"I can understand if you don't want to talk about it now, Shiro-chan," she said softly, "but I hope that you trust me enough to talk to me about whatever is bothering you, whenever you are ready."

Hitsugaya was grateful that Momo hadn't thrown him into the spotlight just then, and he gave his friend's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Of course I trust you, bedwetter-chan," he said, grinning inwardly at the annoyed look on her face, "and I'll tell you about it at some point. But right now, what I really need is to sleep for about three straight days. I can barely stand up, if you hadn't noticed."

Hinamori felt the pressure of Toshiro using her as a crutch and cringed as she saw how beat up he was now that whatever strength he had been tapping into had left him. Letting him lean on her shoulder, Momo guided the wounded Captain as quickly as she could to Fourth Division, followed by a nervous Matusmoto.

"Well, _that_ was unexpected," Shunsui said as he surveyed the icy graveyard before him. "What do you suppose happened to Captain Hitsugaya, Kisuke?"

Urahara, who had insisted that people drop the 'Captain' because, in his words, 'the _haori_ speaks for itself', thought for a moment before speaking.

"It appeared as though his reiatsu had somehow melded completely with the reiatsu of his zanpakuto… but even then, no normal zanpakuto is this strong."

"I wouldn't exactly call Hyorinmaru a 'normal' Zanpakuto, Urahara," Ichigo chimed in, remembering the havoc caused when a copy of the sword had emerged not too long ago.

"Good point," the Twelfth Division Captain said, and the air was calm again for a few moments before it was ripped through yet again. This time, the reiatsu responsible was also familiar and twisted, but in a way that was like a Vizard's reiatsu: dark, dense and unquestionably deadly. Yoruichi, who knew the core of the reiatsu as well as the back of her own hand, was the first to break the silence.

"It's Saika," she said urgently, vanishing immediately afterward and heading for Soukyoku Hill. Rukia and Ulquiorra were the next to disappear, followed closely by Ichigo and Urahara. Yoruichi's thoughts were in turmoil yet again, torn between hoping that he wasn't in danger and wanting to kill him herself.

* * *

The four Soul Reapers and the former Espada arrived at the summit of the Hill when Saika cast _Tenran_, huddling under one of Yoruichi's barriers in order to mask their reiatsu and remain hidden. They saw the orange-eyed warrior use the _Rikujokoro_ to hold Tarsin in place and exchange a few words with Grimmjow before readying himself and beginning to chant. When they saw that Jaegerjaques had moved to higher ground in preperation for what was to come, the group did the same thing and stood nearby the blue-haired former Espada, wondering what was coming next.

Saika had felt the reiatsu of his allies as soon as they showed up; Ichigo's reiatsu was so strong it leaked right through the barrier, but he paid them no mind for the moment. He had more important things to focus on, like obliterating Tarsin from existence.

"_Oh vengeful Gods of Old, hear my plea. Righteousness, rise and banish sin. Virtuous dragon, collide with the Kitsune and shake the stars. Purifying flame, soar high and strike with the power of the Patriarch Phoenix: Hado number 95, Part 1: Dark Karma!_"

"He certainly doesn't want to leave anything to chance," Urahara said dryly as he braced himself against the rock and watched the spell unfold.

A haze as black as midnight flowed out from Tarsin, gradually gaining form and weight as moments passed. When it was thick enough it coalesced into an orb in front of the Greater Demon, growing bigger and bigger as more black energy left him to nourish the orb.

"What's going on?" Ichigo asked, turning to Yoruichi. For a destructive spell above 90, this didn't seem very impressive.

"Right now, every single one of Tarsin's sins is being drawn from his body to feed that orb. It should finish now, and you'll see what all the fuss is about."

The orb, now fully formed, suddenly compressed itself to the size of a watermelon and floated about ten feet away from Tarsin. Taking a breath, Saika began the concluding part of the spell.

"_Justice, great balancer, receive the sins of the lion. Vesta, pure lady, draw the light from the shadow. Michael, warrior of the sun, wield this blade against thine enemy and wipe their wickedness from this world. Hado number 95, Part 2: Retribution!_"

As soon as Saika had finished the incantation, the black orb began to spin. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, the black began to shear away, revealing pure white energy underneath. Ichigo understood that this was Tarsin's sins being purified, no doubt to be thrown right back at him. And considering how sinful a Greater Demon must be, it was probably going to be one heck of an explosion.

He wasn't disappointed, to say the least.

When the orb was completely white, it flared as bright as the sun for a moment before racing towards the immobile Tarsin and embedding itself in his chest. Slowly but surely the light spread to engulf its prey, and when the Greater Demon was completely enveloped in the light it flared again and Tarsin screamed once in pain before the energy around him exploded outwards with such force that everyone but Ulquiorra and Grimmjow were forced to avert their eyes. When they looked again, there wasn't even a wisp of his reiatsu.

Tarsin had been completely annihilated.

Silence reigned until the former Captain flash-stepped up to join the crowd, a satisfied smile on his face until Yoruichi moved forward and slugged him hard across the face. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra reached for their swords on instinct, but Aron waved him off with one hand while he popped his jaw back into place with the other.

"That was beyond deserved," he said, "and it probably hurt as much as you wanted it to, Lady Shihion, if not more. But out of consideration for what shred of dignity I might still have, can we please finish this later, and in _private_?"

Yoruichi softened when she heard Saika's regretful tone, and almost felt bad about belting him across the face without warning. Almost. She dropped her arm back down to her side, and Grimmjow sighed in disappointment.

"Man, I know I want to see the boss get his ass beaten up by a chick. Who's with me?"

"That would be quite amusing, I agree," Ulquiorra agreed, and Aron glared at them both.

"You two are doing the opposite of helping."

Urahara, seeing the look in the former Captain's eyes and knowing what it meant, moved quickly to stop a fight from breaking out between the recently-resurrected Saika and his Espada comrades.

"Okay, okay; now that this threat is past, let's go celebrate it!"

Aron paused and thought for a moment, and then grinned mischievously.

"I think I still remember where Lieutenant Matsmoto keeps her secret stash of Umbriacan Sake," he said, and the glare on Grimmjow's face was replaced by a rare look of awe.

"No way…" he said, looking like someone who had just found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. "That stuff fucks you up to next week…"

Saika's grinned widened.

"Oh, I know, my friend; I know. So, what do you say we follow the esteemed Captain's suggestion and celebrate this first day's victory?"

"Amen to that," Ichigo said, and the group vanished.

* * *

"Okay, who was the jerk who decided to throw a party and not tell me about it?!" Matsumoto shouted, causing the assembled group of Captains, Lieutenants and Arrancar to fall suddenly silent.

Well, all of them except for one, which happened to be a slightly buzzed Saika Aron.

"I did, Lieutenant," he said, and Rangiku's eyes went wide as she saw her former Captain sitting on a couch pouring himself a glass of sake, from a bottle that looked quite familiar… wait…

"Captain Aron," she breathed out, a knot tightening in her stomach, "tell me you didn't…"

Saika grinned.

"Oh yes, Lieutenant. Yes I did."

"But then surely that's not…" The look in her eyes was even more pitiable than a sad puppy's at this point, but Saika's grin just grew wider.

"Oh yes, Lieutenant. Yes it _is_."

Matsumoto looked like her heart had just been ripped out of her chest and stomped on.

"Captain Aron, How could you!?"

"Consider it payback for the hundreds of hours of my life I spent doing your paperwork for you back when I was your Captain, Matsumoto. I'd say this makes us about equal, wouldn't you?"

Matsumoto just collapsed into a chair, deflated and crushed, while a recovered Hitsugaya hurried over to Aron and sat beside him, an earnest look in his eye.

"You used to be Captain of Tenth Division?" he asked, and Saika nodded.

"So you know all of Matsumoto's weak points?" Another nod, this time accompanied by a smile. Toshiro felt as if he'd just witnessed a chorus of angels.

"Please teach me, Aron-sama."

Saika laughed, finishing his cup of sake.

"In due time, grasshopper; in due time. For now, revel in the fact that you are living, and will see at least one more sunrise."

Toshiro nodded and rose, casting a victorious look at Matsumoto's slumped form before going over to talk to Momo. Saika was enjoying the feeling of the Ubriacan sake when he found himself staring into a blazing pair of golden eyes and his buzz died in the blink of an eye.

"We need to talk, Saika," Yoruichi said in a voice that brooked no arguing, and Aron saw his life begin to flash before his eyes.

"Is there really no way it can wait until—"

"_Now._"

Saika sighed, clearing his head in a moment and getting up to follow his former Captain.

This was not going to be fun.

Urahara and Byakuya watched the two of them disappear and smirked, each in their own way, before turning to each other.

"Thirty gold pieces says he comes out on top in the morning," Urahara said, and Byakuya nodded.

"Done," he said, already hearing that money jingling in his pocket. After all, it was never, ever a smart idea to bet against Yoruichi Shihion in anything, especially when she was furious.

* * *

Saika entered Yoruichi's room with the expectation of being pinned up against the wall and beaten senseless, so he was quite surprised when she just stood there, giving him that look she'd always used to have when trying to peer into his heart and figure out what was going on in there. After a few tense moments, she spoke, her voice as soft as Saika had ever heard it.

"Why didn't you just tell me, Sai?" she asked, using the nickname she'd given him when he was her lieutenant. It almost brought a smile to his face, but Saika knew that smiles had no place here right now and kept it down.

"Tell you what, Yoruichi?"

"Don't give me that," she said, her voice hardening as she frowned at him. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Saika felt like he was on the outside of one gigantic inside joke that everyone thought he knew about. Hesitantly, he replied in the negative again.

"No, Yoruichi, I really don't know what you're talking about Unless this is about that time when I sprayed catnip on your pillow just to see you stumble around like a drunk for a few hours, in which case I'm really, really sorry and I'll never do it again."

Yoruichi's eyes narrowed that that revelation.

"That was you?" she asked dangerously, and Saika cursed his big, fat mouth.

"Maybe…?"

The Shihoin princess would have beaten Aron to a pulp for that any time other than now, but she had other, more important things to get off her chest now than anger. Screwing up her courage, Yoruichi spoke and hoped that she wasn't destroying a friendship by doing it.

"Saika, someone told me the other day that you… well, before you left, that… that you were in love with me."

Saika stopped moving entirely, his face a motionless mask betraying no feeling whatsoever. After a moment's pause, he spoke softly and calmly to his former Captain.

"Who told you that?"

Yoruichi looked deep into his bright orange eyes and sighed, shaking her head.

"It doesn't matter," she said, "I can tell by the way you're looking at me that he was wrong anyway." She turned around and began to walk away, tears stinging her eyes and clamoring to break free.

"Yoruichi."

She froze at the sound of her name being uttered with such longing and untapped feeling for the first time in her life; her late 'husband' had only cared about her influence and wealth, and had never said a loving word to her throughout their whole relationship. And now here was her former lieutenant, who had never dropped even the slightest hint that he saw her as more than a friend, saying her name like his heart would shatter if she left the room. She turned around slowly, her breath catching in her throat when he flashed to a few inches away from her face.

"Whoever told you that was wrong about one thing," he said, and Yoruichi drew in a ragged breath at the implications hidden in his voice.

"And what was that, Lieutenant?" she asked, gasping silently as he cupped her chin in one of his hands and stared right into her eyes.

"He shouldn't have put it in the past tense," Saika half-whispered, his voice a volatile mix of pent-up emotion, love and lust. Yoruichi's eyes widened in comprehension and relief and she lunged, fulfilling Saika's earlier prophecy and pinning him to the wall before beating him senseless with the single most passionate kiss she'd ever given.

Saika was sent reeling from the unexpected strength behind the kiss, and it took him a few moments to get his bearings and return the favor. Determined not to be beaten on the world's oldest battleground, he used strength forged during countless battles in Hell to break out of Yourichi's hold, pushing her back and steering her towards her bed. The Shihoin princess felt her feet leave the ground as Saika hoisted her up before laying her down gently on the sheets, keeping his hands on her shoulders to hold her down before letting go once he was on top of her and drawing her into a tight embrace instead, glorying in the feel of the woman next to him.

"Promise me one thing," she whispered urgently, "and I'm yours. Just one thing, Saika; that's all I ask."

"Name it."

"Never leave me like that again."

The orange-eyed prince pulled back slightly from Yoruichi, looking in her eyes and seeing the hope there, the hope that maybe this wasn't just a dream. Saika smiled, running one of his hands through her hair lovingly.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Yoruichi," he said, and she smiled, rewarding him with a searing kiss that spoke of centuries of unresolved lust.

Neither of them got much sleep for the next hour, to put it mildly.

* * *

"'Wait until morning?" the pale-skinned lady scoffed. "What in the Nine Hells is Callos thinking, my love?"

"I do not know, my Lady," War replied, "but that is irrelevant. Get some rest; there will be plenty of time for you to do your work tomorrow.

Death gazed up at the full moon shining in the sky, making up her mind.

"The moon will be gone in the morning," she said, spurring her horse onward towards the Seireitei and searching for the strongest fighter among the assembled Soul Reapers. Finding him, the pale Lady smiled. He was perfect.

"Are you ready to die, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

* * *

Ichigo shot awake like a bolt of lighting had just struck him in the chest, the chilling question from some unknown figure clothed in black still lingering in his thoughts. Careful not to wake the Chappy-pajama-clad Soul Reaper lying next to him, Kurosaki woke up and switched into his Soul Reaper form. He walked outside and found himself drawn to a field just outside the walls of the Seireitei by some kind of invisible force, which became decidedly less invisible when a woman appeared from out of the shadows, pale skin glimmering in the moonlight and holding a dangerously potent Yari in one hand. Ichigo felt his blood freeze at the mere nearness of this woman, but he forced himself to ignore it.

"Who are you, and why have you brought me here?"

The woman gave a cryptic smile at his questions.

"Was I not clear enough in your dream, Ichigo Kurosaki? I have brought you here to die, pure and simple. As for who I am, well, I think a young man as smart as you should be able to figure that out."

Ichigo fought back a shiver, refusing the instinct to draw Zangetsu.

"I refuse," he said. "Even if you are who, and what, I think you are, I'm not just going to fight you because you want me to."

Death sighed.

"An idealist, huh? I should've known. Very well, how about this as incentive. If you don't fight, I'll crush your heart and kill you where you stand. If you choose to stop being such a coward and fight me with all of your strength, you may yet live for a few more minutes."

Ichigo saw that there was no dissuading the ethereal woman in front of him and he shifted into _bankai_, pulling on his Hollow mask and charging forward. He attacked with all of the strength he could muster, but the Yari moved like a tornado and blocked every strike. It even landed a few vicious blows of its own in between blocks that seemed to draw the power from Ichigo's limbs, leaving him short of breath and torn in a matter of minutes.

"Pathetic," she scoffed, lowering her Yari. "_This_ is the warrior who struck down Sosuke Aizen at the peak of his power? Are you serious? This can't be anywhere _near_ as strong as you can get if that's the case, Ichigo Kurosaki. Perhaps a more… _coercive_ form of persuasion is needed.

Closing her eyes for a moment and concentrating, Death summoned a glowing ball of blue energy into her empty hand.

"Do you know what this is, Ichigo Kurosaki?" she asked, with a look in her eyes that made Ichigo suddenly very, very afraid.

"I take it by your silence that you don't. Very well, let me tell you. Actually, no… let me show you. That's always more effective."

Ichigo's heart stopped as an image of Karin, his sister, appeared hovering in the air before him. She was playing soccer in the sunlight, laughing. Death looked at his eyes and laughed.

"Ah, I see you get it now. And what do you think will happen when I do… this?"

Ichigo was pretty sure that he yelled some strangled form of 'no' at the top of his lungs as he saw Death's fingers close around Karin's life force and crush it, but he would never be sure. His jaw went slack as he saw her body fall to the grass with a thud, with so many kicks left to make that would never come; not now.

"Oh, don't look so sad," Death mocked, laughing again. "At least I gave her a Soul Burial, too. She'll be here before you know it, Ichigo."

At the sound of the Horseman's voice, Ichigo's heart started up again with a lurch and his soul churned, waking up a power that had been dormant until now.

kill.

The voice started out soft and shocked, as the skin around Ichigo's fingertips began to turn white.

Kill.

It grew less shocked and more insistent as the whiteness moved up Ichigo's arms and he did nothing to stop it, welcoming the berserker within him with open arms.

_Kill!_

The voice became more enraged and stricken as the whiteness reached Ichigo's shoulders, the beginnings of a smile creeping over Death's pale face.

**Kill!**

The voice's urging became almost overpowering as the whiteness spread down over Ichigo's chest and legs, the dark power rushing into his veins as his Inner Hollow manifested himself more and more concretely.

**KILL!**

The Inner Hollow cried out in primal need, his rage fueled to even greater heights by Ichigo's sorrow. Ogihci wanted blood, and Ichigo was more than happy to accommodate his evil twin. The transformation came to an end as the whiteness finally reached Ichigo's face, which turned white under his mask. The mask and the control it symbolized shattered into countless pieces, leaving Death staring into the face of a heartbroken, bloodthirsty and stark-raving furious Hollow Ichigo, fully unchained at long last. Raising his pure white Tensa Zangetsu, the creature made of pure rage snarled at his opponent.

"Say your prayers, whore."

Death laughed joyfully, seeing that _this_ was the boy's power, and what power it was. Readying her Yari for a real fight, the Horseman smiled.

"_This_ is what I've been waiting for," she hissed as the two enemies charged at each other, the tiniest tears escaping the corners of Hollow Ichigo's eyes as he struck.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Damn, that sucks for Ichigo. Or is it Ogihci now? In any case, yes, Karin is dead, and Ichigo has gone off of the deep end. We'll see where that goes next chapter, but for now I hope you enjoyed this chapter (sorry that it turned out so long, but there was nothing I could cut), and _**please review**_ if you did, because it means a ton to hear from you guys. Thanks to everyone who's read so far, and hopefully I'll see you next chapter!


	11. Payback

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or any of its characters; those belong to Tite Kubo. I do, however, claim ownership of this particular story's ideas and of my OCs created for this story. Please don't use them without consulting me first, if you would be so kind.

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 11:** Payback

* * *

The short raven-haired girl got to her feet shakily, rubbing her eyes absently with her forearm and cringing as the sting of sweat burned the sensitive organs for a moment before fading. Looking down, she saw a dusty road beneath her.

_Odd,_ she thought, _last thing I remember, I was playing soccer on grass…_

Suddenly the pain she had felt moments ago shot through her chest again and she clutched at her heart, slowly beginning to realize the terrible truth.

She, Karin Kurosaki, was dead.

Sagging under the mind-boggling weight of her situation, the dark-eyed girl staggered over to the side of a nearby hut and collapsed against its wall, raising her arm lamely to shield her face from the unusually bright moonlight. She had almost passed out from sheer fatigue when a form appeared in front of her and blocked the moon out entirely. Looking up hesitantly, Karin found herself staring at a young boy seemingly about her age with dusty brown hair and lively hazel eyes.

"You new here?" he asked, and Karin nodded lamely. The boy saw how fatigued she was and scolded himself mentally.

"Geez, where are my manners?" he said, gingerly reaching a hand out to Karin. When she didn't move, he sighed and inched his arm a bit closer.

"Come on, rookie," he insisted, "we gotta get you inside, before you pass out and get robbed, or worse."

Karin's eyes widened as she took the boy's hand, letting herself get hauled to her feet.

"What's 'worse'?"

The boy snorted, opening the door and motioning Karin inside before entering himself and closing it behind him.

"In the 78th Rukon district, kid? Trust me when I say you don't want to know. Just thank your lucky stars I found you, and not some sleezeball like Kora. My name's Aiato, by the way," the boy said as he pulled some earthenware dishes from a cupboard, while Karin took a seat and sighed.

"Karin."

"Nice to meet you, Karin. I'm afraid all I got is some noodles and some leftover chicken; that sound all right to you?"

Kurosaki felt her stomach rumble and she groaned.

"I could eat a tire right now," she answered, and Aiato laughed.

"I'll take that as a yes, then. Okay, one order of chicken noodle stew, coming right up!"

Karin let herself relax as the smell of cooking food wafted through the air, but something in the back of her mind told her to stay on guard; there was something about this guy that seemed a little _too_ good to be true, and if there was one thing her annoying dad had ever taught her, it was this: if something was too good to be true, drop it and run like hell in the other direction.

"Do you have a last name, Karin?"

Aiato's question shocked the girl out of her thoughts, and before she could stop her tongue she had replied.

"Yeah, Kurosaki."

She didn't see the shocked look that appeared on Aiato's face as he heard that name, nor the sinister smile that replaced it for a moment before vanishing, but something in the air was nonetheless screaming at Karin to get away from this kid as fast as she possibly could.

"Something wrong, Karin?"

Kurosaki blinked and found herself looking into the far-too-close-for-comfort face of her benefactor, who was currently holding out a bowl of soup to her.

"Soup's ready," he said cheerfully, putting it down in front of her on the table before sitting across from her and digging in. Karin hesitated for a few moments, wanting to do something, _anything_, but her normally iron will seemed to have evaporated. Finally caving in, she raised the bowl to her lips and took a gulp. It wasn't half bad, and she took another sip before something lurched behind her eyes, causing Karin to drop the bowl onto the table with a clatter.

Aiato's gaze locked with hers for a brief moment, his victorious smirk sending her out of what was left of her mind with rage. Something surged up from within the dark-eyed Kurosaki as she shut her eyes tightly, and when she opened them again they were glowing a pure, dangerous blue. Aiato's smirk was rapidly shrinking, swallowed up by an increasingly terrified stare. Karin's mouth opened and she spoke, her voice bolstered by the raging reiatsu and sounding like a wrathful Hollow.

"_What were you trying to do, worm? Do you have ANY idea who you're screwing with?!"_

Before the ill-fated youth could make a sound, Karin had raised her hand and shot out a focused blast of the reiatsu that crackled so fiercely around her, vaporizing Aiato's head entirely. The sound of his body hitting the table with a sickening thud jolted Karin out of her berserker rage, and she looked at the destruction she had caused with nausea and fear. She had killed someone.

She had _killed_ someone.

Karin had taken the life of another spirit, and she hadn't been able to stop herself. More than that, she hadn't wanted to stop herself. Looking down at her left hand with trepidation, the dark-haired Kurosaki clenched it into a fist and rested her head on it, tears boiling behind her closed eyelids.

"What's happening to me?"

Karin hadn't been asking the question to anyone, so she was quite surprised when she received a reply.

'You are finally waking up, Karin Kurosaki.'

Her eyes flew open and she sat completely upright, tears forgotten in her shock.

"Who said that? Who's there?" she demanded, her voice rising slightly. The voice that had spoken before laughed scornfully at the girl's ignorance, deciding to take things into its own hands.

'Come, girl,' it answered. 'Allow me to introduce myself to you properly.'

Spots of light flashed before Karin's vision before everything was swallowed up by encroaching blackness, sending her spiraling down to join the mysterious voice and whomever its owner was.

* * *

Death considered herself the smartest of the Horsemen, and her intellect combined with a strong sense of pride usually prevented her from admitting to her mistakes. But as the ghost-white warrior kept attacking again and again and again without signs of slowing down in the slightest, even Death had to acknowledge a very apparent fact.

She had made a very, very big mistake killing that little brat.

"Why won't you just fucking _die_!?" Hollow Ichigo shouted, landing yet another vicious blow to his adversary and grinning madly as he saw the blood arc out of her shoulder. Death laughed despite her pain, stabbing out with her Yari and making a deep gash across her ghostly white enemy.

"That's my line, kid," she said with a smirk. "You honestly think a freak like you has a chance against Death incarnate? Don't bullshit me!"

Normally Ogihci would spit out some retort at that or laugh manically with bloodlust, but right now the yellow-eyed berserker's face was as cold as a tombstone. Concentrating, he focused his immense reiatsu on his chest wound until it had sealed itself up completely, much to the surprise of his opponent.

"But, my Yari…" the pale woman stammered. "You shouldn't be able to heal your wound!"

At this, Ogihci did let a smirk grace his face.

"Did you honestly think a toothpick like that would be able to bring me down? Newsflash, bitch: the day I go down to some demonic harlot like you is the day it snows in Hell. _Getsuga Tensho_!"

The two enemies were so close to each other that Death had no chance to dodge the attack, and a moment later the only thing that existed for her was pain.

Ogihci saw his opponent's arm fall to the ground with satisfaction, but he wasn't anywhere near done bringing the pain to the one being he hated most in the world at this moment. Tensa Zangetsu carved two deep slashes in an 'x' shape across Death's chest before the warrior leapt backwards, wanting to draw out the pale woman's torment for as long as possible. The wounded Horseman, however, had other ideas.

"Foolish, pathetic Hollow," she hissed, and Ogihci noticed that her voice was getting shriller and shriller by the second, "did you really think this Yari was the only weapon I have? Allow me to show you my true power, a form not witnessed outside of Hell since the day I burned down Sodom and Gomorrah. _Ascend, Thanatas_!"

Dark reiatsu exploded from around Death's pale form, and somewhere in the distance three children died in their sleep. Her wounds closed up as the energy forcefully pulled them shut, and when she was completely healed the transformation began in earnest. Her eyes became totally pitch black, her teeth turning into a row full of fangs at the same time her hair twisted and grew into a bundle of writhing snakes. Reminded all too clearly of the ancient Furies, Ogihci couldn't repress the first shiver of genuine fear he had felt in his lifetime. Black, leathery wings sprouted from Death's shoulder-blades and her Yari grew and morphed into a double-bladed scythe, with a hooked blade on each end of a black steel shaft.

"**Are you afraid, child?**"

Her voice was chaos and anguish and heart-rending sorrow, and it took every ounce of both Ichigo's and Ogihci's strength to keep from cracking under the raw power of the Horseman's true form. Smirking, Ogihci readied Tensa Zangetsu once more.

"Nope," he replied, "but I can understand why you haven't used that form in so long; it's heinous! I'll be doing you a favor putting you down, woman."

"**Such impudence,**" the demon hissed, brandishing her scythe and charging. "**If you have no respect for your elders, I'll just have to pound some in to you!**"

Ogihci deflected the first blade, but the second strike was too fast and would have split him clean in half down the middle if he hadn't pushed off of his heels at the last possible second. Drawing in a shaky, blood-soaked breath, the Hollow was faced with the grim realization that he might very well die. That realization was only made more certain by the pain that surged through him as Death landed a second blow along the diagonal, cruelly mimicking the scars Ogihci had given her a few moments ago. Coughing up blood and collapsing to his knees, the Hollow could only seethe in fury as his enemy's mocking laughter filled his ears. Closing his yellow and black eyes, he entered the Inner World that was his home and faced Ichigo and Zangetsu.

"This is bad," Ichigo said as he looked at Ogihci's battered and eviscerated form, causing the Hollow to roll his eyes in frustration.

"No shit, Sherlock," he shot back.

"This is no time for bickering," Zangetsu growled. "Tell us why you have come here in the middle of the fight, Hollow."

"Isn't it obvious, Old Man? I need more power, but to get it I need that twerp over there to agree to it. I need to evolve."

Ichigo felt a shiver shoot up his spine as he recalled the last and only time his Hollow side had completely manifested, during his fight with the Vizards. It was arguably the peak of his Hollow powers, and his most potent offensive form, but it was also the riskiest. He shook his head.

"No. It's too risky… I might not be able to take back control once you step in."

Ogihci was incredulous.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" he shouted. "You'd rather die, huh? Is that it? You coward; what about that woman of yours? Don't you want to screw her brains out at least once before you go?"

Ichigo sighed as he imagined Rukia's tear-streaked face looking down at his corpse, but in his vision her arms were now wrapped around the shoulders of a certain red-haired Soul Reaper.

"She has Renji," he said weakly, clearly not believing it himself. Ogihci snarled, realizing he was going to have to cut deep.

"What about Karin!? Damn it, are you honestly telling me that you'd be willing to go to our grave without avenging her, the sister you failed to protect? You sicken me, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Ogihci saw the wounded look cross Ichigo's face and knew he had won, while Zangetsu just glared at him for having resorted to such a low blow. The Hollow just shrugged and jerked his head at Ichigo, as if to say 'It's in his hands now.' After a few agonizing moments as all three beings felt the physical pain of Ogihci's wounds flowing through them, Ichigo sighed and nodded his head.

"Do it."

* * *

Despite his stoic outward appearance, Ulquiorra had been one of the most sensitive of the Espada when it came to picking up on even the tiniest fluctuation of reiatsu, an ability he had relied on in combat time and time again. So when a volcanic eruption of spiritual energy exploded off in the distance, it was like a cannon had gone off right next to his ear. Normally his sleep wouldn't have been in the slightest due to the walls of bloodstone that surrounded the Seireitei, but the gate that had been forced down was still being repaired, and a hole that wide was more than enough space for outside reiatsu to rush through. The energy was dark and evil, like the feeling that had surrounded the former Espada the first time he had seen the Gates of Hell.

It was the reiatsu of one of the Four Horsemen fully unleashed, an entity of pure carnage and apocalyptic destruction. As he sat upright in his bed and tried to pinpoint what had caused such a reaction, a much more concentrated and twisted version of Ichigo Kurosaki's reiatsu when he donned his Hollow mask emerged. It would seem that the warrior had let his Hollow assume near-total control of his soul, but there was still a shred of something holding it back from total domination. A few seconds passed and suddenly Ichigo's reiatsu plummeted to almost nonexistent; he was losing, and losing badly. But then, almost as soon as it had taken a dive, Ichigo's reiatsu soared to heights Ulquiorra had never witnessed, not even from Aizen. The Soul Reaper in his reiatsu had shrunken to the faintest of glimmers and the Hollow side of him had risen, like a dark and terrible dragon. Ichigo's Hollow was fully-evolved, and more than ready to slaughter its foolish opponent.

"Kurosaki… what the hell are you?" Schiffer muttered, his normally emotionless face stunned by the raw power emanating from the warrior. His musings were interrupted by a moan from across the room; Nel, who was sleeping on the couch and still in her childish form, was clutching her head and shivering. Clearly, Ulquiorra was not the only one who felt the battle going on some miles away. Coming to terms with the fact that he wasn't going to be getting any more sleep tonight, the former fourth Espada got up and arched his back, letting out an involuntary groan as his joints and muscles shifted before settling back into place. Schiffer began to walk over to the balcony, where the seedlings of the sunrise were becoming visible, but he stopped when he heard Nel shiver again. Giving a small sigh, Ulquiorra walked over to his sheets, using a delicate sliver of _cero_ to cut a section of the fabric free. Walking over to the small form of the former third Espada, he put the makeshift blanket over her and turned back around, resuming his journey towards the balcony. Schiffer heard the quiet sigh of appreciation behind him but did not turn to look, focusing instead on the battle that was raging over the horizon. If Ichigo managed to defeat Death, tomorrow was going to bring a lot more with it than the sunrise.

* * *

As confident as she felt about her inevitable victory, Death couldn't keep a small cascade of goose bumps from running down her arm as she saw the animal crouched before her.

No, animal wasn't the right word to use… this thing was a _monster_, pure and simple.

Ichigo's Hollow had finally come out in full force: the flowing mane of orange hair, white tail crowned by dark burgundy streaks and gaping hole in his chest were all testaments to that fact, topped off by the insane grin currently being sported by the sharpest rows of teeth the Horseman had ever seen, and that included her own. The Hollow's mouth opened to reveal a long, sharp tongue that moved sinuously over its fangs, a purely animalistic expression of bloodlust.

"_You shouldn't have killed her, you stupid, stupid woman,_" the Hollow hissed acidly. "_That's all it took for me to convince the whelp to let me loose, and now that I'm out you don't have a prayer._"

"**Is that so? I don't have a prayer? Maybe that would be true if I snuffed out the other one, too. Yuzu is her name, ri—?**"

The Horseman never got a chance to finish her threat, the huge blast of a _gran rey_ _cero_ engulfing her entire form at once.

"_You have no place mentioning that name, you whore!_" the Hollow shouted, furious that his opponent had even thought about harming another one of his kin. When the smoke cleared from his gargantuan attack, Death was on one knee and one of her wings had been sheared right off of her body. Burn marks, open sores and numerous cauterized gashes covered every inch of her body, but somehow she was still breathing. Barely. The Hollow stalked up to her like a tiger eyeing up a wounded meal, his sharp claws just itching to do some more damage. But the vengeful urge was overpowering the instinctive side of the Hollow for the moment, and so it didn't indulge in its primal need for blood.

Not yet, anyway.

"Finish… this…" Death gasped out raggedly, her voice weak. The Hollow just laughed, a malicious sound that tore the air to shreds.

"_Finish?_" he echoed mockingly. "_Why would I want to do that? Trust me, woman,_" the Hollow said as it took Death's scythe from her and broke off the blades, jamming them back into the ends of the shaft upright, like a double-pointed spear,

"_Our fun is just beginning._"

* * *

Saika opened his eyes grudgingly, putting a hand to his temple and rubbing it tenderly. The battle between the two fully unsealed powers, as short as it had been, had lasted long enough to give the half-demon prince a raging migraine.

"That kid needs to learn some self control, before he kills an innocent bystander with his reiatsu alone…"

"Tell me about it," Yoruichi groaned, her back to Saika until she turned over and over again to face him, golden eyes practically gleaming with contentedness despite the fact her head felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to it. She beamed a smile and wrapped her arms around Saika's neck, laying her forehead against his own.

"It's good to have you back, Lieutenant," she said softly, and Saika chuckled.

"It's good to be back, Captain," he replied, smiling as well.

"So," Yoruichi said seriously, the smile disappearing from her face, but not her eyes, "are you going to tell me what the happened to you down there?"

Saika wasn't ready to have this conversation yet, afraid of how his former Captain would react to the news that he was half-demon. He prayed silently to whomever would listen for a way out, and his plea was answered when Captain-Commander Yamamoto's voice echoed through his head, something he suspected was happening to every Captain and Lieutenant as well. His suspicion was confirmed when he saw Yoruichi's eyes widen at the unexpected intrusion.

"Every Captain and Lieutenant, report to the main hall immediately for a Council of War. Former Tenth Division Captain Saika Aron and Rukia Kuchiki, your presences are expected as well. That is all."

Yoruichi looked disappointed, while Saika was struggling not to look relieved. Seeing the insistent look in his lover's eyes that said 'Don't think for one minute you're getting off the hook,' the orange-eyed prince moved his head forward and kissed her gently, but with emotion.

"I'll tell you all about it later, I promise. But for now, as much as I hate to say it, we need to get dressed."

Shihoin rolled her eyes and punched Aron on the arm.

"You men are all the same," she said.

"Hopelessly in love?" Saika asked, and Yoruichi chuckled.

"Horndogs."

"Horndogs that are hopelessly in love, you mean," he parried, and the Goddess of Flash sighed.

"You're incorrigible."

The former Captain smirked.

"Wouldn't be me if I wasn't."

Knowing that their verbal duels could go on forever, Yoruichi rolled away from her loved one and got up, ignoring the childish whine Saika gave as he reached out to pull her back. Looking over her shoulder, Yoruichi smirked deviously.

"You want any of this, Lieutenant, you're going to have to come and get it."

Saika groaned, his lethargy playing tug-of-war with his hormones.

"You're evil, Yoru."

The princess smiled at the nickname he'd given her so long ago, putting on the clothes she thought of as so confining with a slight sigh.

"Wouldn't be me if I wasn't," she replied, and Saika grinned as he shoved himself out of bed.

"Fair enough. Now," he said, advancing towards Yoruichi with a grin on his face that made her blood sing with anticipation, "I think it's time I took a bit of what you made me get up for, no?"

"Saika, we have a meeting to get to—mmpfh!" Shihoin's protestations were cut off by a lunging Aron, who gave her a soul-melting kiss that she was soon hungrily returning. When they broke it off after several moments, there was a mischievous gleam in Saika's eyes that Yourichi knew all-too-well.

"Being a few minutes late to something is usually considered fashionable, Sir," he said, before moving his head forward again. Yoruichi was sure that being fashionably late didn't apply to Councils of War, but she wasn't about to argue with the feeling she was experiencing right now.

"I hope you know you're taking full responsibility for what happens when we're late, kid."

"We'll be fine," Saika answered casually. "I'm ready to go now, if you want, and I can tell you right now we'll definitely be there before Captain Kyoraku or Lieutenant Nanao."

Yoruichi arched an eyebrow curiously.

"Why would they…"

When she saw the smirk on Saika's face and the look in his eye, her mouth dropped open.

"No way…"

Aron chuckled at the look on her face, and then spoke.

"Let's just say that Umbriacan Sake is some powerful stuff, and leave it at that. Come on, Captain, we have somewhere to be."

* * *

The Goddess of Flash and her former subordinate arrived at the meeting via flash-steps, and Yoruichi noticed with a grin that Shunsui and his Lieutenant were both, in fact, still absent. Aron glanced over and saw Urhara and Byakuya both looking at him, Urahara with open curiosity and his old friend with guarded hope. Saika knew exactly what had gone on between the two of them by their looks, and he just hoped a visit from Senbonsakura Kageyoshi wasn't in his near future. Smirking, he locked eyes with his best friend and spoke.

"Pay the man, Captain Kuchiki."

Byakuya's expression was shocked for a moment and then fell, while Urahara flashed a triumphant smile as the elder Kuchiki reluctantly handed him a pouch.

"Much obliged, Aron-san," Kisuke said with a sly nod of his head, while Yoruichi finally caught on to what was happening and blushed.

"Believe me, Urahara," Saika said with an equally sly smile, "the pleasure was all mine."

Yoruichi's blush deepened and she attempted to smack Saika hard upside his head, causing the orange-eyed prince to dodge the blow reflexively and laugh at his lover's outburst.

"You're sleeping on the couch tonight, you cretin," Shihoin growled, fighting back with her deadliest weapon and cutting deep. Saika's grin changed to a devastated stare, and Byakuya let out a rare chuckle.

Before anyone had the chance to comment on the fact that Byakuya Kuchiki had just _chuckled_, Captain Kyoraku and Ise Nanao suddenly appeared. Ise's skewed glasses spoke volumes, and no one said anything for a few seconds until Matsumoto broke the silence.

"It's about time!" she said, and Nanao shot her a murderous glare before settling into position near her Captain. Yamamoto banged his staff hard on the floor to signal the start of the meeting, but before he spoke the Soul Reapers thought they saw the smallest trace of a smile disappear from his face. Surprisingly, Yamamoto found himself agreeing with the Tenth Division's Lieutenant. But pride for his adopted son had no place here, and he spoke out in his usual gruff timbre.

"This Council is hereby called to order. Saika Aron, come forward and be recognized."

Saika stepped forward and faced the Captain, bowing, before stepping back into position. Just as he was about to begin speaking, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow appeared behind him with the telltale buzz of _sonido_ heralding their arrival.

"We apologize for our tardiness, Aron-sama," Ulquiorra spoke into the sudden silence, his head bowed. "We received no summons, and so we were forced to track your reiatsu instead. Please feel free to reprimand us in any way you see fit," he finished, raising his head. Saika sighed.

"Do I look like Aizen to you, Ulquiorra? Be at ease, gentlemen."

The two former Espada relaxed at once. It was much harder to tell with Schiffer, though, whose only difference was that his shoulders were slightly less rigid than they had been moments before. Grimmjow, on the other hand, started looking over the Soul Reapers like food choices in a buffet. His eyes lingered longer on Soi Fon then any of the others, for reasons only Jaegerjaques knew. When his survey was finished the blue-haired Espada returned his gaze to the Second Division Captain, his grin widening.

He had seen something in her similar to the emotion that had driven him so hard for so long: the desperate need to prove himself, to grow stronger and stronger at any cost. The will to fight always made for the best opponents, and this Captain had it in spades. It was going to be fun drawing it out of her; that was for sure. Soi Fon snorted in disgust and gave Grimmjow a glare that, far from intimidating him, made his blood quicken with excitement.

'And she's feisty, to boot,' he thought, eyes flashing. 'Nice.'

The tense silence in the room was broken by Yamamoto, who tapped his staff on the ground before speaking, his voice harsh.

"I will not have this meeting witnessed by these abominations," he said, glaring over at the two former Espada with brown eyes open. Ulquiorra stiffened and Grimmjow snarled, reaching for his zanpakuto, but he was stopped by Saika's hand resting firmly on his arm.

"I'll handle this," he said, using the language of the demons to convey his seriousness. Yoruichi shivered at the harsh, yet entrancing sound of the ancient tongue, and the power that rippled within the words. Stepping forward, Saika looked Yamamoto right in the eyes and frowned as every other Soul Reaper in the hall besides the Commander held their breath.

"With all due respect, Commander," Saika said, Oujiscuro seeping into his voice and giving it a decidedly deadly edge, "the former arrancar you referred to just now are my men, and as such I will take full responsibility for their actions. Secondly," he continued, his orange eyes darkening as his demonic side became even more prominent, "if you ever speak of them in such dehumanizing terms again, I will relieve you of your sword-arm."

Aron's words left no doubt as to his seriousness, and for several moments no one in the chamber made a sound as Yamamoto and the former Captain stared each other down. At length the old man sighed, frowning.

"I see your impulsiveness has only grown stronger in your absence, Aron-san," he said, and Saika relaxed his glare, bowing.

"I apologize for my outburst, Captain-Commander," he said, "but I am sure that you of all people will understand that I was forced to defend the honor of my warriors."

"I would expect nothing less from a former Captain," Yamamoto said seriously, before shifting his gaze to the two former Espada and back to Aron again.

"Do you vouch for these two, Aron-san?"

Saika nodded gravely.

"Absolutely. As they have shed their blood for me, so would I gladly shed mine for them."

Yamamoto nodded, satisfied with the response.

"Very well. I will hold you to that, Aron-san. However, do not expect us to trust these soldiers of yours in the slightest; I will have my eyes on both of them personally. Now, would you be so kind as to deliver your report of the current situation?"

Saika nodded and returned once again to his position, where he briefly noticed his comrades' looks of thankfulness and Yoruichi's look of unabashed awe before he turned his attention to the room at large and began.

* * *

The Hollow gazed down at his finished product with satisfaction, knowing by her screams just how much Death had suffered before he decided to end it. As far as the ravenous Hollow was concerned, she got off light. But now there was a whole other battle to be fought, inside of Ichigo's Spirit World. Closing its eyes, the Hollow shifted into the Spirit World and barely had enough time to cross its arms in a block before Ichigo was on top of it, Tensa Zangetsu in his hand and fire in his eyes.

"Playtime's over, punk," he hissed. "Give me back control."

The Hollow, who had transformed back into Ogihci, smirked before breaking out into a laugh.

"Make me."

That was the wrong thing to say to a pissed-off, still-grieving and obscenely powerful teenager. Before he could blink Ogihci found himself slammed into the side of a skyscraper, with one of Ichigo's hands around his neck choking the life from him. The Soul Reaper's brown eyes blazed with fury, and his hand tightened its grip enough to make his Inner Hollow choke and struggle to breathe.

"I don't hear you surrendering, punk," the Soul Reaper growled, driving his _bankai_ into Ogihci's chest for emphasis and smirking as black liquid jetted from the Hollow's mouth.

"I really have no problem with eradicating you completely, buddy," Ichigo said with unnerving calm, "so you have a choice to make. Either surrender and give me back control, now and forever, or I will kill you right here and now."

For the first time in his life, Ogihci felt genuine, paralyzing fear. Since when had this brat turned into such a hardcore, cold-hearted bastard?

"Fine," he gasped out. "I concede this round to you, Ichigo. But if you ever slip again…"

Ichigo yanked out his sword roughly and sent it back to its _shikai_ state, re-sheathing it. Turning to Ogihci, he smiled viciously.

"I won't. Trust me, partner."

With that the Soul Reaper vanished, leaving the Hollow alone with a very smug-looking Zangetsu. Furious, Ogihci shot his acquaintance a savage glare.

"What the fuck are you looking at, Old Man?"

Zangetsu just laughed, walking away and leaving the Hollow alone to lick his wounds, and his ego.

* * *

_Karin Kurosaki's Spirit World_

Karin opened her eyes slowly and looked around, shocked to find herself no longer in the shack she had been in a few moments ago, but instead in the middle of a massive canyon that stretched as far as the eyes could see, dominated by dark spires of stone and draped by a dark, roiling sky lit by a black moon.

"Where am I?" she asked aloud, whirling around when a malicious voice laughed and answered her, the same voice that had spoken to her before.

"We're in your Spirit World, kid."

Karin found herself face-to-face with a young woman slightly taller than herself, with the same black hair and dark eyes, although the spirit's eyes were decidedly more seductive, and dangerous.

"Who are you?" Karin asked, more than a little afraid of the being in front of her. "What's your name?"

The spirit laughed, a cackle that sent chills through the young Kurosaki.

"Even if I told you my name, child, you wouldn't be able to hear it. Not yet, anyway. And asking _who_ I am is just stupid; _what_ I am is far, far more important."

"Then… what are you? And why does my Spirit World look so… angry?"

The spirit smiled darkly.

"I'm your zanpakuto, or I will be as soon as you learn how to materialize me. And as for why this place looks so depressing, that's because it's a reflection of your soul. Do you even realize how much bottled up aggression and anger there is in here? All of those tears you refused to cry, all of those emotions you refused to let out because you 'had to be strong', every single ounce of that stagnates here. Hell, you managed to turn the goddamn _moon_ black, and I'd be lying if I didn't say that impressed me just a bit."

Karin was shocked by this explanation and didn't want to believe what she had heard, but she knew deep down that the spirit, which was part of her being, after all, had not lied.

"Damn," she said, the curse escaping her mouth in surprise and twisted admiration for the sheer amount of angst she'd been able to seal away over the years. "Is there any way I can change it back?"

The spirit shrugged.

"I don't really care. Maybe you can sit down with a copy of _The Notebook_ and a pint of Hagen Daas and have a good cry, but that's your call, kid."

Karin shuddered at the thought of doing something so sappy, and sighed.

"I'm sure it'll fix itself sooner or later."

The spirit smirked, her eyes flashing.

"Whatever you say, Kurosaki. Anyway, this is wasting my time. Since I don't feel like sitting around on my ass doing nothing while you try to figure out how to materialize me, I'll give you a bit of a leg up. The rest of it's up to you, though, Karin. See ya," the spirit finished, and the dark-eyed Kurosaki found herself being pulled up and out of her Spirit World, closing her eyes tightly against the rushing wind.

* * *

When she opened her eyes again, Karin was back in the cabin, and Aiato's headless corpse was starting to stink.

"Oh, God," the young Kurosaki said, fighting back the urge to vomit and holding her nose closed tightly while she staggered out of the door and into the dim light of the dawn. A wakizashi now hung at her hip in a black sheath, the hilt wrappings a silver color. She drew the weapon out slowly and reverently, feeling the energy pulsing through it and knowing that this was a zanpakuto, the weapon that her brother and the mysterious white-haired boy named Toshiro had both used to fight Hollows.

Before she had taken much time to admire the blade, however, shouts from nearby drew her attention back to the present at once.

"Aiato! What's taking you so long, man? Just grab the bitch and let's… what the hell?!"

The four young thugs who jogged impatiently into view weren't greeted with the sight they had expected: instead of their partner in crime hoisting a drugged body over his shoulder, they saw a young woman, dressed in a Soul Reaper's kimono. She was holding a very sharp, unsheathed zanpakuto, and looked rather displeased that she had just been referred to as a 'bitch'.

Very, very displeased.

"You know, boys," Karin said in a completely calm voice that made the thugs' eyes widen in fear, "that's not a very nice way to refer to a girl. Just out of curiosity, before I beat the crap out of you, just what were you bastards planning to do with me, exactly?"

The cockiest thug in the group stepped forward, brandishing a sharp, if completely normal katana.

"If you mean what are we _still_ gonna do with you, once we capture you, we're gonna sell you on the market!"

Karin allowed her instinctive curiosity to overtake her revulsion, if only for a moment.

"What market?"

The thug looked at Karin like she'd revealed eyes in the back of her head.

"What do you mean, 'what market'? Were you born yesterday or something, chick?"

Karin bit back the urge to say yes, and let the thug finish instead.

"Ever since those demons got here and wrecked a huge chunk of the Rukongai, labor has been in huge demand over in the ruined areas. Problem is, those haughty bastards over in the Seireitei don't give a shit about us rats, so they haven't sent anyone to help us out. But that's fine by us, 'cause the market's opened up for cheap workers."

Karin was getting tired of listening to this punk, so she cut him off and finished the thought.

"So you kidnap people and sell them into slavery? That's disgusting."

The thug scoffed.

"You're pretty uppity for a girl, let alone one from the 78th District. Do you really think you stand a chance against all four of us?"

Knowing that actions spoke much louder than words, Karin held her zanpakuto out so that it was perpendicular to her body and charged, finding to her great satisfaction that she ran much faster here than she had in the Human World. Putting the flat side of her zanpakuto up to the thug's neck, she looked him right in the eye and smirked.

"Yeah," she said, "I think I stand a chance."

What Karin had forgotten about in her confidence was that the thug was holding a sword, the blade of which was now cutting through her unprotected chest. Launching back as fast as she could, the dark-eyed Kurosaki looked down at the gash on her chest in shock, shame and anger; she had been overconfident, and she had suffered for it.

That was one mistake she would never make again. Looking up from her wound with her dark eyes pulsating in rage, Karin flipped her zanpakuto around so that the blade was pointing outwards.

"You're going to pay dearly for that, punk," she snarled, dashing forward with killing intent flashing in her eyes.

_**Now**__ we're talking, kid,_ her zanpakuto's voice echoed in her head, but Karin blocked it out so that she could turn her complete attention to her strike.

And what a strike it was.

If the zanpakuto had been katana-length, it would have torn the poor thug clean in half. As it stood, the short sword ripped through his frame and followed through with terrifying grace, snapping sideways to force the blood off of its blade. As the shocked thug staggered backward and spit up some blood before falling to the ground and convulsing violently, the other three criminals scattered like the rats they were to the four winds. Karin walked over to the injured thug's prone form slowly, wincing slightly at the pain coming from her cut but forcing it out of her mind. When she was looming over the boy, he coughed pathetically and spoke.

"Who… w—who the hell are you, bitch?"

"My name is Karin, you piece of trash. Karin Kurosaki."

The boy's eyes became wide as saucers as he heard the name, and suddenly he realized, all too late, that insulting this girl had been a terrible idea.

"Kuros—aki? Heh, I get it now; you must be related to Ichigo Kurosaki. That guy has quite a reputation… I heard they dragged him over here ta—ugh—to fight the demons, but who knows…"

Karin's own eyes widened at the mention of her brother's name and she grabbed the thug by the folds of his blood-soaked kimono, shaking him forcefully.

"Ichigo!? You know my brother? Where is he? Damnit, _where is he_!?"

For being the daughter of a doctor, it was surprising that Karin didn't realize shaking a guy who was bleeding to death was not the best of ideas. The thug fell silent under the assault and his head lulled to the side under the weight of death's embrace, eyes rolling back in his head.

The understanding that she had just claimed her second life in less than a day hit the young Kurosaki like a ton of bricks, and she collapsed to her knees in anger and sorrow. Before she could openly grieve, however, a sound reached her ears from behind her that was so foreign given the situation that it shocked her tears right back into her eyes. Turning around, she saw a figure in a cloak with the hood up standing behind her…

Clapping?

It seemed perverse to Karin that anyone would actively take delight in such carnage, but then she reflected grimly that there was a part of her that had screamed in happiness when she had slashed up that punk. But that was in the past now, and the present was all about the cloaked man in front of her, who had stopped clapping and now spoke, his voice even and calculated.

"Very nicely done, Miss Kurosaki. Making a mark like that without even calling out your zanpakuto… very impressive indeed. Then again, I wouldn't expect anything less from a sister of the great Ichigo Kurosaki."

"You know my brother, too?" Karin asked, now wondering just how famous her irritating sibling was over here. The cloaked figure laughed, and the sound made Karin's hair stand up on end.

"Do I know him? Yes, I'd say that I do; quite well, actually. He's tried to kill me on a number of occasions."

Karin's mouth dropped open slightly at that.

"He's tried to what-now?"

"Did I stutter, young one? I said that he's tried to kill me on a number of occasions. Fortunately, he's such an idiot that he never hit me in the right place. Or maybe he was being merciful on purpose, but that really don't matter now, does it?"

Karin looked at this strange figure, whose face she couldn't even see, awed by his peculiarity.

"Why are you here?" she asked, and the man sighed.

"I'm not entirely sure myself," he answered. "I was just out walking around, and I felt myself being pulled towards your reiatsu. Seemed like the right place to be, you know?"

Karin didn't know, but she nodded her head anyway.

"So," the cloaked figure continued, "what's the name of that there zanpakuto?"

The dark-eyed Kurosaki shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine, mister."

The figure took a step back, surprised.

"You don't know its name? No, no, no, that'll never do; not for someone of your family." The man thought for a moment, then clapped his long, slender hands together once in recognition of a great discovery.

"I'll tell ya what," he said. "Since I owe your pesky brother a debt that I can't repay him right now for a bunch'a reasons, I'll just train you to get to know that wakizashi of yours better and we'll call it even. Whaddaya say?"

Karin was shocked by the forwardness and generosity of this strange figure, but despite the odd sense that something was just… _off_ with the guy, she wasn't exactly in a position to be looking gift horses in the mouth.

"Sure… yeah, that would be great." Karin said, and then she remembered something.

"Before we start, though, could you tell me your name?"

The figure gave Karin a smile she could feel from under the hood and raised his hands, lifting the obstructing garment from his face to reveal high cheekbones and a thin nose framed on either side by piercing, blood-red eyes. The man's head was topped by shockingly silver hair, and his mouth was twisted into a smirk that made Karin's stomach do somersaults.

"My name is Gin Ichimaru," the man said, his smirk disappearing as his face turned deadly serious,

"But you can call me Sensei."

* * *

_Seireitei—The Council of War_

Saika drew in a breath, and began to speak.

"As I'm sure some of your are aware, around 120 years ago, I was critically wounded in a battle with a Hollow and dragged down to Hell."

Byakuya winced with his eyes at the memory of his best friend sacrificing himself for his sake, but the twinge of emotion was repressed as quickly as it had emerged.

"When I arrived there, I was just one out of many souls, but my power quickly separated me from everyone else. I caught the attention of the Baron of the Eighth Circle, Lord Mortos Rovinarus, and was subjected to a series of tests to determine if I was fit to become one of his soldiers."

Both Ulquiorra and Grimmjow noticed the bitterness with which Aron had mentioned his father's name, but they were curious as to why he didn't mention the connection between himself and the Baron. Shrugging mentally, they assumed their leader's reasons were his own and didn't press the matter.

"I passed with flying colors, and became a private in his personal army. I rose through the ranks to General in a short time, and was soon immersed in the territorial wars that dominate the shifting, feudal landscape of Hell. The bloodshed became my life, war became routine, and it stayed that way until recently, when my b—when Prince Callos, Mortos' son, decided that Rukia Kuchiki was to be his next bride."

The near-slip flew over nearly everyone's head, except for the two former Espada, the regal Kuchiki and Yoruichi Shihoin. Resolving to ask him about it later, the golden-eyed princess held her tongue and let Saika continue.

"I was appointed as Rukia's bodyguard, and my position as General was assumed by our near and dear friend, Sosuke Aizen."

The mention of that name drew gasps of surprise and anger out of several of the assembled Soul Reapers, but Saika raised his hands and the swell fell silent.

"As far as I know, Aizen has been permanently de-powered by Mortos for attempted treason, and is now being used for target practice. As usual, his reach seems to have far exceeded his grasp."

That calmed down the group of Soul Reapers considerably, and some of them chuckled. Bringing himself back to his tale, Saika pressed on.

"Soon enough, Ichigo Kurosaki decided it would be a great idea to barge down into Hell without a plan, although he did manage to drag Lieutenant Abarai along with him for backup. To make a long story short, they mucked it up and got the five of us thrown in jail. We busted out, saved Rukia, and hauled ass back here. Unfortunately, our escape and 'abduction' of Rukia finally gave Mortos the reason he had been waiting for to launch his invasion of Soul Society. The one person who might try to sabotage his operation from the inside, that being me, was out of the picture. His son, Prince Callos, was given command of the force, which includes the elite troops known as the Four Horsemen, and passed through the Gates into the Human World. From there they entered Soul Society, which brings us to the here-and-now, having successfully fended off the first attack led by the Greater Demon Tarsin."

"No doubt your expertise in the field of demonic combat will be of much help in the coming battles, Aron-san," Yamamoto rumbled, "but I have a question. Why, if Prince Callos was given command of the army, did he not lead the attack?"

A voice spoke in response, but it was not Saika who answered.

"He did not lead the attack because I was dueling him at the time."

All eyes in the room turned to Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya, who stood proud in the face of the scrutiny.

"And why, pray tell, did you leave your post unannounced during what you knew was soon to become an emergency, to fight a duel against an enemy you had no authorization to engage?"

Toshiro flinched under the gaze of the Captain-Commander, but he did not give any ground.

"Because Hyorinmaru told me to, Sir."

Yamamoto laughed gruffly at that, his voice laced with subtle scorn.

"Your zanpakuto gave you orders, and you heeded them? Captain Hitsugaya, a Soul Reaper's mastery over the will of their zanpakuto in the form of _bankai_ is the most basic test of the Captaincy, and you tell me that your sword has regained dominance? That is almost shameful."

It was understandable that Toshiro would be furious in the face of such thinly-veiled contempt, but what happened next was something no one other than Saika and his two Captains could predict.

Ice consumed every inch of Toshiro's _haori_, hardening it into a kind of regal suit of armor. Spikes of ice crowned his shoulders, and as the final proof of his transformation his normally green eyes turned a deep, brilliant blue as his reiatsu spiked massively. The increase sent Matsumoto to her knees, along with every other Lieutenant present except for Renji.

"**If you have taken issue with something concerning us, **_**child**_**, I suggest you bring it up with me.**"

Most of the Captains stared in shock, while Saika just smirked.

"I was wondering when you'd show up, Lord Hyorinmaru," he said, although he would dearly regret speaking very shortly. The Heavenly Guardian looked over at him and snorted, speaking in a half-growl.

"**Who let demon trash like you in here, Prince Rovinarus?**"

Saika's eyes widened in shock and fear for a few seconds before narrowing to dangerously murderous slits, his hand on Oujiscuro's hilt. When he felt Yoruichi back away from him reflexively as she connected the dots, the orange-eyed prince snapped. Activating his _shikai_ without even calling it out, he charged at Hyorinmaru as the dragon mimicked the gesture and the two titans clashed in the middle of the hall, keeping their reiatsu to a minimum for the sake of the surrounding Soul Reapers and instead communicating all of their fury through their crossed zanpakuto. They might have started actively dueling if the door hadn't been unexpectedly and unceremoniously kicked down, revealing a being so powerful and seething with unchecked reiatsu so potent that it physically drove the two opponents apart and to their knees, Hyorinmaru's semi-divine powers notwithstanding.

After all, the person who had just entered the room was practically a God.

Ichigo Kurosaki walked into the room slowly, his eyes looking nowhere in particular; it was as if his mind was somewhere else entirely. Looking around almost lazily, the orange-haired Soul Reaper saw that his reiatsu was causing even Yamamoto some discomfort and drew it in with a heavy sigh, as if even that basic act exhausted him. The top part of his robes no longer existed, and the pants were heavily frayed at the bottom. His body was covered with cuts that his Hollow hadn't had time to fully heal, including the two massive gashes across his chest that made Rukia's heart clench. But despite his battered appearance, he still made everyone else in the room swallow nervously as he stood there, looking for all the world like Ares post-slaughter. Suddenly his head jerked over as if he'd remembered something important, and he spoke to Saika in a voice so flat it seemed devoid of all life.

"Oh, by the way, Saika, you can change the number of Horsemen to three. The pale bitch is outside."

His head shifted and he was looking straight ahead again, until he stopped and turned around with an odd look on his face.

"What day is it?"

Unohana was the first to overcome her awe and she spoke, the answer making Rukia's blood run cold.

"June the 17th, I believe."

She expected Ichigo to sputter, or collapse, or stagger, or frown, or _cry_, even, but what he did was the last thing she would have guessed.

He started to laugh.

It began as a low chuckle, disbelieving and mirthless, but it quickly escalated to a hysterical, soul-grating sound that had most of the Soul Reapers present thinking he was about to start foaming at the mouth. Rukia wanted more than anything to go to her loved one and comfort him, but Byakuya's hand held her still.

Eventually Ichigo's stricken laughter peaked and faded, just in time for him to reach the door on the other side of the room and lean against it, sliding it open at the same time.

"June 17th… what a day… one just wasn't enough for ya, huh?" he half-shouted as he walked through the door, leaving a room full of stunned Soul Reapers in his wake. None of them knew what was racing through Ichigo's mind at the moment except for Rukia, and even she only knew half of it. This day had now taken not one, but two family members from Ichigo Kurosaki, and he felt responsible for both of them. Rukia flash-stepped after Ichigo as soon as Byakuya relaxed his hold on her, determined to figure out what was plaguing him. She'd never seen him this undone before, and she's seen many June 17ths since she had begun living with the Kurosaki clan.

Saika was the first to break the silence, flash-stepping outside to see what Ichigo had been talking about. When he saw the grisly sight that awaited him, he barely held back retching and returned to the hall.

"Someone needs to go get that corpse off of our front lawn," he said, closing his eyes and trying to force the image of Death impaled on her own scythe from his mind.

He was never, _ever_ going to piss of Ichigo Kurosaki. Opening his eyes again, they took on a sad look as he spoke again.

"I was going to tell everyone about my origins at a later time, after I had fully come to grips with them myself. I've only known about who, or what, I really am for a short time, and I still don't know _what_ to think about it. However," he said, looking directly at Yoruichi as he continued, "I can understand if my being half-demon strikes any of you as repugnant, and anyone who does not approve of my being here has only to say so, and I'll walk right out this door without looking back."

Yoruichi looked conflicted for a few moments and Saika's heart skipped a few beats, but then she came to some kind of internal decision and calmed down, giving him a look that said a bunch of things, but most prominent among them was 'If you leave, you're a dead man.'

Aron gulped at that, but diverted his focus from his lover to the impassive visage of his best friend. Byakuya's face was unreadable as usual, and Saika was in no mood for suspense.

"Well? Don't you have anything to say, Byakuya?"

Aron expected any of a number of responses, from 'Don't call me that, scum,' to 'Get out of my sight, you filth,' but as today was apparently Unexpected Day in Soul Society, Byakuya gave his friend the smallest of smiles, one only he could see.

"I always knew there was something odd about you," he said evenly, as if that answered everything. For Saika, it answered enough, and he smiled. Toshiro, having returned to as normal as he was going to be, turned to the demon prince and spoke.

"For what it's worth," he said humbly, "I apologize for my actions a moment ago. They were inexcusable, and I am sorry."

Aron just shrugged.

"You were not yourself," he replied. "It is forgiven. Besides, it wouldn't be right if two Captains of the same Division were at each other's throats all the time, right?"

Hitsugaya gave a weak smile at that, still drained from the power burst Hyorinmaru had used. Gathering what was left of his wits about him, Saika looked over at the remarkably calm Yamamoto and spoke.

"Despite the ludicrously awkward turn this morning's meeting has taken, Sir, I am sure that I do not need to remind you that we still have an enemy at our gates. And despite the fact that Ichigo Kurosaki, through some miracle, has managed to defeat one of the Four Horsemen in battle, I have no doubt that my brother will soon send the remaining three down upon us without mercy. Might I suggest that we take whatever few precious hours we have remaining to us before the onslaught to ready our defenses, so that we aren't caught completely unprepared?"

Yamamoto's expression was as indecipherable as ever, but Saika thought he could see the traces of a smile on his face if he squinted.

"Your counsel is indeed prudent, Aron-sama," the Captain-Commander said, no doubt changing the honorific to reflect the fact that Saika was royalty, and quite possibly the heir to one of the strongest positions in Hell. The orange-eyed prince grimaced at the title, though, and closed his eyes halfway.

"Please don't use that title around me," he said. "I want nothing to do with that throne, or those who would lay claim to it."

Yamamoto's smile widened, his eyes opening in a rare display of satisfaction.

"Very well, Aron-san," he said, and while Saika was a bit upset that the honorific had been a test of sorts, he was still glad that he had passed. The Soul Reapers took the exchange between the orange-eyed prince and Yamamoto to mean that the Council was adjourned, and they broke off to muster their Divisions for the coming battle. Only Yoruichi stayed where she was, silently asking her former Lieutenant to join her. Saika obeyed the request at once, and broke the silence with the question he'd wanted to ask for the last few minutes.

"Why didn't you just tell me to leave?"

His voice was soft and disbelieving, and Yoruichi answered it with the comforting, slightly maternal tone that had always been able to draw Saika out of even the deepest funk.

"That's a stupid question, kid," she said, putting one of her hands delicately on his chest like she had so many years ago when she'd first met him, and just like then Aron had a hard time suppressing a shiver.

"Just because you're a half-demon, that doesn't mean your heart is any different because of that, unless you want it to change. Hell, I'm not exactly normal myself; how many other shape-shifters do you know?"

This brought out the smile she had been looking for, and Saika gave her a quick kiss in gratitude before retuning to Captain mode.

"We should get going; they're probably almost done by now."

Yoruichi stepped back and nodded, and the two of them vanished in unison. The great hall was now empty except for Yamamoto, who shifted his gaze to the horizon and tightened his grip on Ryujinn Jakka.

"I have an ill feeling about today, old friend," he said. "You may yet drink blood before the sun sets."

* * *

Rukia entered the room that functioned as Ichigo's whenever he visited Soul Society for any considerable length of time and closed the door softly behind her, not wanting to be disturbed. Looking across the room, she saw Ichigo sitting on the bed with his head facing the wall and walked lightly over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist supportively once she'd sat down next to him. After a moment he turned and looked at her, the bottomless pits that were his eyes almost making her cry just by seeing them. When Ichigo spoke, however, any tears Rukia might have been holding in were frozen by the shiver that coursed through her body.

"Karin is dead."

"What?" Rukia asked, her voice light and incredulous.

Ichigo did not nod, or give any sign that he had heard her speak; Rukia might just as well have not even been there.

"My little sister is dead, and I saw her die. I watched her die and I did nothing. I couldn't do anything, Rukia. I couldn't do anything!"

He punctuated his last word with an anguished, animalistic growl that was accompanied by a much more fearsome spike in his reiatsu. When he had calmed back down, Rukia saw with dread that his eyes were now black and yellow, hidden behind his red-streaked mask.

"I'm going to make them pay, Rukia," he said in a chilling voice that left no room for doubt. "I'm going to hunt them down, to the man, and make them beg for mercy."

The young Kuchiki looked into Ichigo's eyes and saw the pain there, the rage that was the only thing holding him up at the moment. Determined to let him know that he wasn't alone, Rukia grabbed a handful of his hair and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his mask. Ichigo broke down the part covering his mouth and reciprocated with a hunger and desperation she had never felt from him before. When she broke away from him, all of Ichigo's mask had faded away and he looked at her with those brown eyes she knew so well, a mixture of awe and love shining in them.

"I'm here for you, Ichigo," she said seriously, "always. And don't ever forget that, or I'll smack the crap out of you until you remember."

A smile that Rukia had been waiting to see for what felt like years crept across the orange-haired Soul Reaper's face, a true, genuine smile. He moved forward and gave Rukia a bone-crushing embrace, whispering in her ear as he did so.

"I love you, Rukia Kuchiki."

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper didn't bother wiping away the small tears that appeared in her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks, instead returning the embrace with all of her might.

"I love you, too, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Ichigo broke apart the embrace reluctantly, pulling on his mask once more. This time, however, his eyes weren't nearly as full of rage. Instead, a warrior's calm permeated every pore of his being, and he spoke in a tone that told Rukia he was smirking under his mask.

"Let's go," he said. "We wouldn't want Byakuya to get the wrong idea and dice me to bits, now would we?"

Rukia laughed and the two friends melted into the air, ready to face whatever came their way.

They were together, after all.

* * *

**A/N:** Damn, that turned out much longer than I thought it was going to. I hope it didn't drag, or if it did, it wasn't unbearable. Next chapter's going to be more action-oriented, with the arrival of some new enemies to challenge Ulquiorra and Grimmjow, specifically.

And speaking of Grimmjow, the whole Grim/Soi Fon thing is just something I thought up over the weekend, when I was thinking about which one of the (female) Soul Reapers was most like him. I mean, Soi Fon has the emotional restraint that Jaegerjaques lacks, but I think that in terms of goals and ambitions, they're pretty alike. It'll be fun seeing their rivalry develop, to say the least.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, _**Please Review**_, because that's really what keeps me writing this behemoth when I could be doing other things, like schoolwork.

Thanks for sticking with this story so far, and hopefully I'll see you next time!


	12. Inferno

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters; I do, however, claim ownership of this story, the ideas presented herein, and my OCs. Do not use/steal/etc. them without my permission. Thank you.

**Author's Note:** This is a long chapter. I tried splitting it into two parts, but it broke the flow of the action up too much. So you might want to grab a drink and some snacks, is all I'm saying. Hope you enjoy it.

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 12**: Inferno

* * *

The dark-eyed demon prince looked over from his makeshift throne with annoyance as the messenger walked in, wishing that he could just crush it like a bug.

"What is it, Balthazar?"

Callos was not going to deny the fact that he took perverse joy in having Saika's former adjutant running his errands, but the bastard constantly refused to treat him with respect and was never on time when called. Something would have to be done about that, Callos mused with a grim smile, which was promptly wiped off his face as Balthazar delivered his report.

"Death has fallen in battle, Prince Callos."

The prince's eyes widened in shock and he shook his head to clear it of anything that might be obstructing his hearing. Clearly, he hadn't heard what he thought he'd just heard. It was simply preposterous.

"Please tell me you're joking."

Balthazar sighed mentally, controlling himself before he spoke.

"With all due respect, Sir," he said in a tone that conveyed very little, "I would not joke about such things. The testimony I received from War himself stated that Death was most displeased with your decision to hold off on the attack until morning. She charged down towards the Seireitei on her own, and was defeated in battle and killed by an as-of-yet unidentified assailant. All we know of him is that he is a human, capable of transforming into a Hollow."

Callos snorted in disgust, hocking up a wad of spit and launching it across the room into a garbage can.

"What a vacuous whore," the prince said scornfully. Balthazar bit his tongue until it bled to stop from mentioning that the former Horseman had been the one with the right idea.

"There is something else, Prince."

"Speak."

"Your father, the Baron, has received news of both Tarsin's botched assault and of Death's demise. In an effort to relieve you, he has sent Malachi and Tenebros through the Gates, accompanied by a legion, to provide more firepower. They should be here shortly."

Callos' eyes narrowed.

"What could I possibly use those worthless failures for? There's a reason those two arrancar freaks replaced them as my brother's Captains; they were weak, and the strong demolished them."

"They have spent every waking moment since then fighting to become stronger, Prince," the messenger explained, "and their powers have risen accordingly, as far up as _Euriae_."

Callos' eyes widened slightly at that, impressed despite himself.

"They managed to rise that high this fast? Hmph, I guess I should give them a bit more credit, then. When are they due to arrive?"

No sooner had the question been asked than a burst of reiatsu was felt as a Gate was ripped open out of nothing, and Balthazar rose.

"It appears they have just arrived, Prince Callos. Shall I send them here?"

"Yeah, you go ahead and do that," the prince muttered apathetically, not really caring what Balthazar did at this point. His attention was focused solely on the two new weapons he was about to acquire, and pondering the best way to use them.

* * *

"What took you two so long?" Urahara asked Ichigo slyly, but his smile vanished when Ichigo looked at him with black and yellow eyes as deep and harrowing as the pits of Hell.

"I don't want to talk about it, Captain," he said curtly. Kisuke didn't attempt a comeback, nodding grimly and departing to go help Byakuya in setting up bulwarks. The other Soul Reapers were still a bit wary around Ichigo's vizard form, but he could care less. As long as his friends and those who mattered to him knew that he had total control over his Inner Hollow, he wore his red-streaked mask with pride.

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow stood off to the side, not entirely unwelcome but still feeling ostracized.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Grimmjow asked mischievously, but Ulquiorra didn't even look over at him.

"Neliel is still asleep, if that's what you're asking. And for the last time, she's not my—"

The two former Espada were distracted by a surge of demonic reiatsu off in the distance, and their eyes widened as they recognized the unique signatures. The other Soul Reapers felt something hazy, having been exposed to some demonic reiatsu in the last battle, but only Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, Saika, Renji, Rukia, Ichigo and Hitsugaya felt the true strength of the newly-arrived enemies. The Tenth Division Captain, who had been talking to Momo, felt his head pound for a moment as his eyes flashed blue before returning to their normal green.

"Toshiro?" Hinamori asked, concern showing clearly in her voice. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he replied through gritted teeth, ears still ringing slightly at the sudden spike in reiatsu. "I'm fine, really."

"I doubt that somehow, Shiro-chan," Momo teased with a bittersweet smile, and Hitsugaya frowned.

"It's C…"

"Captain Hitsugaya, yes, I know," Hinamori completed, sighing. She wondered if she would ever see her old friend again, the one who had spent days lounging on the front porch mowing through watermelons like they were nothing. Reaching out, she put her hand on his head and ruffled his hair.

"But you're still Toshiro to me, Captain."

Normally Hitsugaya would have torn the arm off of the person who would dare do such a thing, but when Momo was the person involved the situation was anything but normal. Putting his hand up, Toshiro gently removed his friend's hand and lowered it slowly, but did not remove his own. Shifting his grip, the Captain entwined his own hand with Hinamori's, squeezing ever-so-lightly as he did so.

"I can feel Hyorinmaru crying out within me," he said softly, ignoring the light blush that dusted Momo's cheeks. "Just now, it was like my will was no longer my own. This feeling that burns within my soul, it… it terrifies me."

Hinamori's blush gave way to unabashed shock; she'd never seen her friend so open or vulnerable before. Acting like he hadn't noticed the change at all, Hitsugaya continued.

"This power I have now is immense, but if I can't control it I know it will consume me… Hyorinmaru will consume me. These demons that will assault us today will be their strongest warriors, and in the face of their power I do not know if I will be able to hold back. If something should happen to me out there, just know that I'm s—"

Momo stepped forward and cut the Captain off with a kiss that shocked the melancholy right out of him, but before he had a chance to respond Hinamori had backed away, her mouth still slightly open and her eyes shining.

"Don't apologize, you idiot," she said. "You're going to come back, right? So there's nothing to be sorry for."

Toshiro didn't know what to think, so he decided to just stop trying altogether. He all but lunged at the woman in front of him, wrapping an arm around her back and using it to keep her from falling as she was pushed down with so much force she almost left her feet. Time was merciful then and slowed its course, allowing the two of them to stretch the moment out for what felt like minutes. Eventually, however, Hitsugaya raised her back up and broke off, his expression a mystery once more.

"Goodbye, Momo," he said, "and good luck."

With that, the Tenth Division Captain vanished, no doubt off to prepare himself for the coming day. Hinamori was left standing stock-still in surprise, but a clear laugh brought her back to reality. When she turned around and saw who it was, she blushed fiercely.

"What's so funny, Lieutenant Matsumoto?"

"Oh, nothing," the Tenth Division Lieutenant replied in a tone that was far too innocent to be sincere. Growling in embarrassment, Momo stomped off to help prepare the defenses while Matsumoto just stood there laughing. It was a rare thing to be able to laugh during wartime, and she was going to take full advantage of it.

Saika felt his jaw clench involuntarily in rage as he realized who had just emerged from the Gate, and what it would mean for the coming battle.

_Those bastards…_

"What's wrong?" Yoruichi asked, and Aron couldn't keep his hands from balling into fists, a light trickle of blood seeping out from where his nails broke the skin of his palms.

"I should have killed them when I had the chance," he said ambiguously, but before the Shihoin princess could reply Ulquiorra and Grimmjow appeared right next to them, the buzz of _sonido_ signaling their arrival.

"Aron-sama…" Schiffer began, but the orange-eyed prince held up a hand to stop him.

"I know, Ulquiorra," he said, his eyes on the ground. "It seems that the time has come for me to atone for my weakness."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Yoruichi snapped, angry at being left completely in the dark.

"I was merciful, once, when I should not have been," Saika explained, "and now what should have been a relatively simple battle has become much more complicated. You two," he continued, shifting his gaze to the faces of his Captains,

"Are you prepared for what is to come?"

The two former Espada nodded gravely.

"Very well, then. When those two ingrates get here, I will trust in both of you to do what you must."

"If they extend the challenge of _morituri_ it will be accepted without fail, Aron-sama."

"I have no doubt that they will, Ulquiorra," Saika responded in a voice that made Yoruichi forget completely about the bright, humorous man she knew and look at him in a whole different way: he was a General of Hell; fighting constant battles for over 100 years would certainly change you, and not exactly for the better. It was as if his cheerful self that she had seen earlier was just a mask, covering his scars.

But he was also a Prince, whether he wanted to admit it or not, and he subconsciously bore himself with a somber nobility that brought Byakuya Kuchiki to mind, during the period when he had been mourning the death of his wife. Like Byakuya had been back then, it seemed as though Saika was struggling with all of his strength not to crack under the pressure.

"Yoru, are you all right?"

She blinked and saw that Saika was looking at her now with an expression of complete tenderness, the polar opposite of what she thought he would be capable of given his tone a few moments ago. But the way the light played off of his eyes, now their normal shade of orange, made it clear that he was concerned for her with every fiber of his being. Putting up a mask of her own, she scoffed.

"Of course I'm all right, you idiot," she said, the trace of a smile taking enough of the sting out of her words and for Aron to smirk in return, although it was clearly pained.

"Suit yourself," he said, before looking over again at his two Captains.

"I would suggest that the two of you say your goodbyes to whomever you wish, but I get the feeling that there aren't many people here you're on speaking terms with."

Ulquiorra's eyes relaxed for the briefest of seconds before hardening again. This was not going to be a pleasant talk.

"There is one," he said, and Saika smiled sadly.

"Go to her, then, my friend. And you, Grimmjow?" he asked, one eye glancing over at the blue-haired former Espada as Schiffer vanished. Jaegerjaques shrugged dispassionately, and Aron's smile widened ever so slightly.

"You're a terrible liar, Grimmjow."

The former sixth Espada glared for a moment, but then vanished with a buzz; it was true that there was no one he wanted to say goodbye to, but he certainly wouldn't mind saying hello to one Captain in particular. Saika looked over at Yoruichi and motioned wordlessly with a gesture that made her heart speed up before he vanished. The golden-eyed princess knew exactly where he was going, and followed in his wake.

Whatever he had to say, it was serious.

* * *

"I do not remember requesting reinforcements from my father," Callos said petulantly as he sat askance on his throne, looking down at the two kneeling demons before him.

"He told us that your distaste was to be expected, and ignored," Malachi spoke evenly, his tone formal.

"He also said that a foolish brat like you who failed to grasp the most basic of military strategies was going to need all of the help he could get," Tenebros said, his voice more acidic than his partner's had been. Callos seethed at the insult, but did not act on his anger; his weapons would do him no good if they were broken.

"So," he said as cordially as he could, "I hear the two of you have attained the rank of _Euriae_. Congratulations."

"Do not praise us yet, Prince Callos," Malachi replied coolly. "All of our training has been for but one purpose, and until that purpose has been achieved our rank is meaningless."

"Yeah, I'm gonna love looking down on that blue-haired son of a bitch as I choke the life out of him," Tenebros half-hissed, malicious glee dancing in his voice. Malachi shot his comrade a disgusted look, but Callos paid neither of the demons any mind for the moment. A plan was beginning to coalesce in his head, something so foolproof it couldn't possibly get screwed up by the incompetent maggots that comprised the bulk of his army.

What Callos didn't know was that his brother had already assumed he was going to make this move, and was preparing accordingly. But even if he had known, at this point nothing would have been able to dissuade the dark-eyed Prince from his scheme. He was going to demolish the three strongest obstacles to his domination of the Seireitei in one fell swoop, and after that nothing would be able to stand against him as his banner crossed over the threshold and into the Court itself. Looking down at the two former Captains, he smiled.

"How interested would you two be in fighting a _morituri_?" he asked, and Tenebros smiled.

"Why, your Highness," he answered, "we thought you'd never ask."

* * *

"It looks different in the dawn, don't you think?"

Yoruichi sat on the edge of the roof, dangling her feet in the air as she kept silent. She knew that Saika was trying to avoid telling her something, and she wasn't about to help him stall. The orange-eyed prince sighed when he realized that his strategy had failed miserably, taking a breath and speaking.

"My brother is going to challenge me to a duel this afternoon, Yoruichi," he said.

The princess cocked her head slightly and raised an eyebrow.

"So?"

"So, I might not win."

Yoruichi fought back the urge to smack her former lieutenant hard across the face, but it took much more strength than she had thought it would.

"Why would you even think like that? He can't really be that powerful, can he?"

"I'd like to think not, but honestly I don't know," Aron admitted, walking over and dropping down onto the tiles of the roof, sitting next to his loved one.

"He's a purebred demon, which means he has to have something up his sleeve. On top of that, he always fights dirty," Saika added with a worried glance at Yoruichi, and she frowned.

"Don't tell me you're worried about me getting hurt? That's ridiculous!"

"Is it?" he snapped back, a little harder than he intended to. Seeing his former Captain shrink back under his anger, the prince softened his gaze and put a hand gently on her shoulder.

"Look, Yoruichi; I'm almost positive that I'll be able to defeat Callos, I'm just saying that I've seen him do far worse things than use a human shield. If things go like I think they will I should be able to keep him focused on me during the fight, but if there's one thing my bastard of a brother knows how to do it's run really, really fast."

Yoruichi gave a quick but warm smile, before her eyes hardened again; she was touched by Saika's concern, but if his mind was divided during the duel it would do nothing but work against him.

"Promise me that you won't think about me at all during the duel, Saika. If you get hacked up because you were distracted worrying about me, I'll never forgive myself."

"You know as well as anyone that I don't make promises I can't keep, kitten," Aron replied with a rueful smile, and Yoruichi knew she was going to have to resort to drastic measures. Leaning over with a distinctly feline smile on her face, she whispered,

"Indulge me just this once, Sai, and I'll make it worth your while."

The former Lieutenant just barely held back a spine rattling shiver at the implications in her tone, but when she leaned even closer and explained just _how_ she was going to make it worth his while, Saika almost lost it on the spot. Reining himself in with every ounce of self-control he had, he swallowed audibly and replied.

"Well, Captain," he forced out through a suddenly dry throat, "I think we have ourselves a deal."

Yoruichi's grin widened.

"Good to hear it. Now you just have to make sure that you stay alive long enough to come home and collect."

Part of the orange-eyed prince's growl came through in his tense reply, his hands balled up into fists for an entirely different reason now.

"Something tells me that won't be a problem, sir," he replied, flash-stepping away before he lost control on the spot. There was no denying it; that woman truly deserved the nickname of 'Demon Cat'. Yoruichi let out an amused chuckle.

Men were so easy to get to sometimes.

* * *

_Men are such animals…_

This thought had occurred to Soi Fon more times than she could count over the course of her time in Soul Society, but it had never applied as aptly to anyone before as it did to Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. The mysterious blue-haired Espada who had gone to Hell and come back as a very unlikely ally in these troubled times was as much a feline as he was a human, and carried himself with the same tense, powerful grace. The flurry of kicks and punches the Second Division Captain was releasing into the air did nothing to banish the almost feral smile he had given her from her mind; it was as if he had been gauging her strength and her will to fight, challenging her pride and daring the Captain to do the same to him. Suzumebachi had been thrumming with aggressive energy since that exchange, yearning to brand that cocky bastard's face with a _homonka_ and then see who was smiling. The tension in her reiatsu had become so great that Soi Fon had been driven here, to the dojo, working off the excess energy and trying to get her mind focused on the day ahead instead of that infuriating son of a…

The Stealth Forces leader was thrown violently out of her thoughts when her leg suddenly stopped moving. Soi Fon opened her eyes to see that a hand was wrapped securely around her shin, and she looked from the hand up the sharply sculpted arm it was attached to and across a scarred, half-bare shoulder blade before finally staring into a pair of bright, mischievous blue eyes.

"Not bad," Grimmjow said appraisingly, and from the way his eyes darted over her form Soi Fon couldn't tell if he was talking about her skills or her body. She was betting on the latter, but Jaegerjaques surprised her.

"Your form is sloppy, though, woman," he finished, letting her leg go and voicing a light, breezy chuckle before turning around and walking away.

_Sloppy? Sloppy!?_

Soi Fon's carefully honed self-control was slipping in the face of this unpardonable insult to her skill. She'd fought toe-to-toe with Yoruichi, for Heaven's sake. How dare he demean her like this!

_I'll show that bastard 'sloppy'!_

Soi Fon charged and aimed a swift, potentially fatal kick right at Grimmjow's temple, but he battled it away like a fly without even turning around.

"Like I said," he spoke as his stride remained unbroken, "sloppy. I heard that coming before you'd even taken a step, your muscles were so tense."

It took all she had to bite back a growl, but Soi Fon couldn't keep the anger out of her voice completely.

"If you're so good, why don't you prove it to me?"

A huge grin split Grimmjow's face as he heard those words; it turned out that the wasp had been even easier to snare than he'd thought she would be. Making sure the grin had disappeared before he turned around, the blue-haired warrior locked eyes with the simmering Captain of Second Division.

"You really want to get your ass beaten that badly, woman? Well too bad, 'cause I only fight if my enemy's as strong as I am, or if the stakes are high enough to make it worth my time. And I'll tell you right now that you aren't even near my level, so that leaves wagers. What's it gonna be?"

Soi Fon scoffed.

"I'm not about to be reduced to gambling on a fight with scum like you."

Grimmjow sighed.

"And here I thought you had fire under you, pushing you on to get stronger and stronger and stronger. Are you really not worried that my leader's woman is going to swoop down and take her spot back?"

Jaegerjaques could tell by the way her smoldering eyes widened and then narrowed murderously that he had struck a nerve, and struck it hard. Gritting her teeth, the Captain hissed out a reply.

"Fine. If I win, you have to admit that I am superior to you and never show your face to me in challenge again. In addition, you'll run all of my errands for a month, and I mean _all_ of them."

Grimmjow just smirked. Those weren't half bad, but he could do better. Besides, if he died this afternoon he wouldn't even have to pay up, so it was really a win-win situation for him.

"Done. If I win," he said, the smirk widening, "I get to spar with you twice a day until you're as strong as I am. In addition," he finished, wondering just how she was going to react to his next demand,

"If I win, you give me your open Lieutenant spot for a month."

Soi Fon almost choked at those words. Was this freak serious? He couldn't honestly expect her to agree to that; no way was she going to let an arrancar wear the robes of a Soul Reaper Lieutenant!

"If you're too weak to take that bet, I can always just go tell Saika's woman that her protégé was such a coward she couldn't even…"

Grimmjow's words were cut off as he moved his head sharply to the left, barely dodging a blow that would have sent Suzumebachi's _shikai_ right through his skull. As it was, he grimaced when a thin streak of blood shot away from his cheek and a black butterfly marking spread across his flesh.

"You're on, Espada," she hissed, and the former sixth Espada smiled.

"That's what I like to hear. Don't hold back on me, woman," he replied with a warrior's glee as he used _sonido_ to escape his bind, cracking his knuckles and settling into a stance. Soi Fon's eyes narrowed.

"Why don't you draw your zanpakuto, beast?"

"If I need to, I will, woman," Jaegerjaques answered. "Jesus, don't make it seem like you _want_ to lose; that's pathetic. Let's just hope for your sake that your stinger is as sharp as your tongue!"

With that Grimmjow vanished from sight, and Soi Fon had no idea where he had gone.

_How could he be so fast?!_

"Looking for me, cutie?"

The Captain barely had enough time to comprehend that Grimmjow was behind her before she was sent skidding into the opposite wall by a vicious spin kick. A trickle of blood seeped out of her mouth as Soi Fon rose to her feet, only to behold an empty dojo.

Before her steely grey eyes could blink she was up against the wall, Jaegerjaques' hand around her throat holding her in place.

"Told you I wouldn't have to draw my zanpakuto," he taunted with a smirk, gazing directly into her eyes. As much as she wanted to be revolted by the situation she found herself in, Soi Fon felt a shiver crawl languorously through her body as the feeling of being completely and utterly dominated swept over her, kindling a flame in the dark corners of her soul that even Yoruichi hadn't been able to spark. Grimmjow noticed the blood ebbing from the corner of her mouth and grinned before leaning forward, drawing his tongue across her cheek to stain it red, a parallel to the _homonka_ on his cheek.

"Delicious…" he said, his voice low enough to make Soi Fon's breath catch momentarily in her throat. Drawing from her deepest well of control and vowing not to be undone by something so base, her eyes narrowed in a harsh calm that was not at all mirrored by the maelstrom beginning in her soul.

"You shouldn't have left me so close to my _homonka_, Grimmjow," she rasped, striking out at the place on his cheek where the first black marking glinted in the light.

"Shit!" the blue-haired warrior swore, releasing his grip and using _sonido_ to escape just as the tip of Suzumebachi grazed his skin. Soi Fon smiled viciously, but to her surprise Suzumebachi sent out a pulse of spiritual energy through their connection that seemed almost… angry.

"Looks like your zanpakuto wants to keep me around, Captain," Grimmjow said with a smile as another _homonka_ bloomed no more than a millimeter away from the original. Soi Fon was furious, but in the deepest corner of that fury there was an inkling of relief; Suzumebachi had forced her to shift the strike ever so slightly at the last possible moment, saving Grimmjow's life.

"If it makes you feel any better, your little tattoos can't kill me," Jaegerjaques said, smirking at Soi Fon's look of disbelief.

"What?"

"I've already died once, woman," he explained, "and I've got demon energy in my reiatsu now; it's part of my life-force, even if it is just a trace amount. Your little trick is impressive, but not enough to bring down someone like me!"

Soi Fon snarled, hauling her battered body upright and staring daggers at her rival.

"You dare to call my powers a 'trick'? I'll show you what true power really is, you bastard! _Bankai!_"

The force of the reiatsu that was unleashed made Grimmjow draw his sword out of habit, but he did not release it. Planting his feet and refusing to give an inch to this admittedly determined woman, the former sixth Espada grit his teeth and waited for the smoke to clear. When it did, even Grimmjow couldn't keep his mouth from opening slightly at the sight before him.

Soi Fon was standing tall, both of her arms clad in the armor of Suzumebachi up to her shoulder on the outside, the inside of her arms still bare. Every one of her fingers was now covered in a pointed blade, and her feet were covered in armor as well, with a single spike coming out from the tip of each foot. It was perfectly suited to hand-to-hand combat, and even if the _homonka_ couldn't bring him down, Grimmjow knew that he had to start taking this feisty bitch seriously or he was going to be in a whole lot of pain.

"Oojo Suzumebachi," Soi Fon called out. "This is the purest expression of my power, the threat of suffocating death striking out at you from every angle until you can't even breathe under the pressure. When that time comes, all I have to do is strike with two fingers and you're finished. Prepare yourself, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques!"

Grimmjow barely had time to note that she had called him by his name before he had to buzz out of the way of a full-bore strike from Soi Fon, the wind generated by the attack cutting a gash across his face. Quickly reevaluating his opponent, Jaegerjaques readied Pantera and disappeared.

"Too slow!"

Soi Fon could follow his _sonido_ now, and was already turning to strike when the telltale head of hair appeared in her peripheral vision.

"Oh really?" Grimmjow said snidely, blocking the strike with his zanpakuto and readying a blast of _cero_ in his free hand.

"Dodge this, bitch," he growled, letting go of the pent-up energy at the Second Division Captain point-blank. While he waited for the smoke to clear, the former sixth Espada couldn't help but feel a twinge of something in the back of his mind. He chalked it up to regret that his most promising opponent since Ichigo had gone down so quickly, but there was another facet to the feeling that he couldn't classify.

"Stop daydreaming, Grimmjow!"

_What the fuck?_

Jaegerjaques had a mere second to shift his sword to behind his back as Soi Fon's right hand collided with his zanpakuto, the screech of steel-on-steel echoing in the room as she tried to force her way through the only thing keeping her from victory.

"You're done, Espada," Soi Fon whispered heatedly as she brought her other hand to rest at Grimmjow's neck, the points of Suzumebachi less than a half inch from his pulsing jugular. The blue-haired warrior was slammed by a sudden surge of animal instinct he hadn't felt since his days as an _adjuchas_: part of him wanted to unleash Pantera and rend this annoying wasp to shreds, and the other part of him wanted to grab her, throw her down to the floor and…

"You should have followed through on that strike, woman," he half-growled in a voice that held so many tempestuous emotions it almost made the Captain's knees buckle as her pupils dilated, responding to her opponent's primal instinct. Before she could rein herself back in, Soi Fon found Grimmjow behind her, the blade of Pantera against the skin of her neck and his mouth only inches away from her ear.

"Do you yield?" he whispered in a voice that resonated deep in Soi Fon's marrow, grabbing hold of her restraints and ripping them to ribbons. As if the rapid beating of her own pulse wasn't enough to make her focus dull, the fact that Pantera was thrumming in perfect unison made it hard to even see straight.

"Do you yield, Soi Fon?" the voice asked again, saying her name with such barely-repressed desire she gasped inaudibly at its raw force. Not wanting to give her rival the satisfaction of hearing her say it, but unable to resist any further, Suzumebachi took the leap for her as the Captain's _bankai_ vanished into the wind. It left Soi Fon feeling as exposed as she'd felt in her life, but for some reason she didn't mind one bit. Seeing that his opponent had given her answer, Grimmjow withdrew his blade from her throat and pounced.

In the blink of an eye, Soi Fon found herself on the matted floor of the dojo, her arms pinned to her sides as Grimmjow's blue eyes stared down at her with a searing combination of lust and admiration.

"I gotta hand it to ya, woman," he said as he eyed Soi Fon's heaving chest appreciatively, "you gave me the best fight I've had in a while. Been a long time since my blood's gotten that hot, and I fought some pretty fierce duels in Hell. But there's somethin' about you that just…"

The blue-haired warrior was unceremoniously cut off as Soi Fon pushed out of his grip, driven by her most basic instincts. Soon he was the one looking up into a pair of eyes, the steely gray orbs smoldering with willpower that made Grimmjow's blood scream in need.

"Just shut up," she growled, lunging down and capturing his mouth with her own. Jaegerjaques responded with unchained fervor, and the two of them battled back and forth for a full minute before breaking apart, near-breathless.

"I guess having you as a Lieutenant wouldn't be the worst thing in the world," Soi Fon conceded, "but it might take some arguing before the other Soul Reapers would be willing to accept an arrancar into their ranks."

"Screw 'em," Grimmjow shot back, his eyes slightly hazy. "They don't like it, I'll just beat the shit out of 'em until they do. Besides, you don't have to worry about giving me those robes just yet, anyway."

Soi Fon cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Why not?"

"I'm probably going to have to fight a duel this afternoon," he said casually, as if it was going to be as difficult as breathing, "so you can hold off on paying up until I get back with that bastard Tenebros' head."

Soi Fon nodded gravely, a warrior's understanding glimmering in her eyes as she was confident in his victory while simultaneously coming to grips with the fact that he might not come back.

"Don't give me that bullshit," he said harshly, shocking the Captain out of her introspection. "Do you think I'd really go off and die right after I've found someone to beat the crap out of on a regular basis?"

A competitive gleam came back to Soi Fon's face and she grinned, something in her eyes putting Grimmjow on edge.

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Lieutenant," she said, and Grimmjow smiled in kind.

"Yes, Sir," he replied, suddenly wishing that he'd pushed for more than a month. All the same, something told him that by the end of his term, she wouldn't want anyone else under her.

Or on top of her, for that matter, he thought as his grin widened.

This was going to be a fun month.

* * *

Ulquiorra entered the room with a whisper, toning down the force of his _sonido_ in case Neliel was still asleep.

"What took you so long?" a decidedly adult voice asked from across the room, and Schiffer turned to behold a fully-grown Neliel Tu, clad in a Soul Reaper's kimono and eyeing him quizzically.

"There was a pressing matter that required my attention," he replied evenly, not looking her in the eye.

"I see," the former Third Espada said, advancing towards him slowly but surely.

"But I can imagine that the preparations for battle are still underway," Neliel continued, her calm voice cutting to the heart of the matter as usual,

"So why are you here, Ulquiorra?"

"There was… another pressing matter that required my attention."

Nel was within arm's length of Schiffer at this point, and put a hand on the top of his Hollow fragment.

"Was? Or still is?"

Ulquiorra tried to push himself away, but found that he suddenly lacked the strength to do so. Neliel's other hand perched itself on his shoulder and she looked right into his piercing green eyes.

"Stop running, Ulquiorra," she said, gently but firmly. "If you keep all of those emotions bottled up inside you, they'll crush your heart like a grape."

"Something like me has no need for a heart," he said sharply, but Nel didn't budge.

"Yes, Ulquiorra," she insisted, his first name sounding almost alien coming from her, so full of emotion that Schiffer did not dare let show, "some_one_ like you does."

She tightened her grip on his shoulder and moved forward, placing a gentle kiss on the former fourth Espada's pale lips. He went as rigid as a statue, thin pupils narrowing even further, but he did not reciprocate. Nel sensed his inner turmoil and, not wanting to make things awkward, broke off the embrace.

"What's wrong?"

"Not now…" Schiffer mumbled. "I cannot afford to be weighed down in such a way, not before I have fought my duel…"

Neliel's eyes softened in understanding.

"So you have come to say goodbye, Ulquiorra? To cut out your heart, and abandon it? Fine. If that is your choice, I cannot stop you. But can I ask you to do one thing, before you go?"

Schiffer's expression relaxed by the smallest of fractions.

"Name it."

"If you have resolved to leave your heart behind, then leave it with me."

"Neliel…"

"I'll take good care of it, I promise," she said with a bittersweet smile. "And when you come back, it'll be here waiting for you. As will I, Ulquiorra."

The green-eyed former Espada stayed silent for several heartbeats, before reaching out and tracing the scar on Neliel's face with his forefinger. The green-haired arrancar shivered under the unexpectedly delicate touch, but as soon as it had come it had vanished.

"I will hold you to that promise, Neliel Tu Oderschvank." It was the first time he had used her full name. Nel gasped and looked up, but Ulquiorra was gone.

"You had better come back, Ulquiorra," she said, gazing out at the horizon, "or Gods help me I'll kill you myself."

* * *

"Are you four ready?" Callos asked, and the elite demons all nodded.

"Good. We will leave presently."

"My Lord Callos!"

Famine ran up to the Prince and bowed hastily before raising his head. Callos, however, was more interested in the fly buzzing around his head.

"I did not tell you to come, Famine. Your fight is not with the Soul Reapers."

"But then what…?"

"Silence. I have an even more important mission for you, Horseman. You are to take three of our five legions and pass through to the Human World. Once you are there, cause as much destruction as you deem needed to gain the attention of the Soul Reapers. They will be obliged to split their forces in half to deal with the threat, and that combined with the fact that four of their strongest fighters will be dead by sundown all but seals their doom. Now go, and make the skies weep."

Famine nodded rapidly, his wasted eyes shining even brighter than usual. It had been a long, long time since he'd had the opportunity to gorge himself like this, and he was going to feast on those tasty human souls like there was no tomorrow. Which there wouldn't be; not for them.

As the lanky Horseman vanished, Callos turned to his remaining elite and grinned.

"It is time."

* * *

Death's body had been sealed away in the deepest recesses of the compound that had once housed Central 46, the spear that Hollow Ichigo had driven through it still gruesomely in place. As if by some trigger, however, the body jerked twice and dissipated into reiatsu, the beginning of the reincarnation cycle to determine the next demon who would be crowned Death. A part of that reiatsu broke off, however, repulsed by the rest of it. This reiatsu had not been part of Death originally, after all:

It had belonged to Sosuke Aizen.

Pulled by some unseen force, all of the demonic reiatsu in the room dove through the ground and vanished, followed closely by Aizen's own reiatsu.

* * *

The Gate of the Seireitei had been repaired and the Captains stood in front of the walls, awaiting the demonic horde. Saika, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow stood the furthest from the walls, centering themselves for the duels they knew to be coming. Soi Fon had her eyes trained on Grimmjow, but when a report passed to her through a reiatsu bridge, she looked over to the other Captains and shouted.

"We've spotted the standard!"

Toshiro was off like a crossbow bolt, fairly shrieking through the air as he flew to see what was on the horizon. When he returned and alighted next to an apprehensive Momo, the look on his face was one of puzzlement.

"There are only five warriors under the standard."

"What?"

"Why would they bring so few to fight us?"

"Do they really think we're that weak?"

"Those bastards, we'll show 'em!"

Ulquiorra wasn't paying any attention to the ramblings of the excited and nervous Soul Reapers nearby; eyes closed and deep in thought, the former fourth Espada was trying to discern just who the approaching enemies were. A shield around their presence had made it tricky work, but Schiffer got around it in a few moments. When he had positively identified their enemies, he relaxed and his eyes opened.

"It's them, but Famine seems to be missing."

Saika nodded, wondering just what his brother was up to. He had an idea, but now wasn't the time to be throwing troops around based on unproven suspicions.

"Captain Ukitake," he said forcefully, and the white-haired Captain looked over.

"Yes, Saika?"

"Get everyone lower than Captain class inside the walls of the Seireitei, save Rukia Kuchiki and Renji Abarai." Aron was about to add Ikkaku to the list, as he had achieved _bankai_, but the look in the Lieutenant's eyes begged him not to, and Saika relented.

"But…" Momo protested, not wanting to leave Toshiro's side in his hour of need.

"Momo Hinamori," Aron said as gently as he could while remaining steeled for battle, "while I can understand your desire to be close to those whom you care about as they fight, if you do not wish to die I would advise that you enter the Seireitei and do not come out until it is safe."

Momo made to protest, but Hitsugaya's hand on her shoulder stilled her voice at once.

"Momo, I'll be fine. Trust me. You stay safe; I promise I'll come back to you."

The last part was a whisper meant only for her, and Momo understood the weight Toshiro placed on his oath. Nodding hesitantly, Hinamori began to walk towards the Gate with the other Lieutenants before turning around and rushing into Toshiro's arms, giving him one last soul-burning kiss.

"For luck," she said, blushing, before flash-stepping away to escape the wide-eyed stares of the crowd. Everyone was glad that Momo finally seemed to be out from under Aizen's thumb, but they'd never expected her to be that… aggressive. Matsumoto ruffled Hinamori's hair affectionately when she appeared, but Momo just frowned and smacked her hand away, blushing as a loving smile crept over her frown as she relived the last few moments.

_Come back safe, Toshiro._

When the area was clear of everyone except for the most powerful of the Soul Reapers, Saika turned and addressed them.

"Three of the five warriors approaching us will immediately challenge myself, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow to separate duels. We will force them to move as far away from here as possible, leaving you to deal with the two Horsemen. War may seem to be the only real threat, but I urge you not to underestimate Pestilence; his strikes are craven, but they are far from harmless and his accuracy is without peer."

The Soul Reapers all prepared themselves mentally one final time for the battle to come. All of them, that is, except for Ichigo, whose gaze was fixed worriedly on a short, raven-haired Soul Reaper.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper turned to find himself facing Byakuya Kuchiki, who had his hand resting readily on the hilt of Senbonsakura. Ichigo glanced at the sword for a moment, but when it became clear that Byakuya was not about to start sparring, he relaxed.

"Yeah, Byakuya?"

"Do you love Rukia?"

He had not been expecting that question at all, but Ichigo held his ground under Byakuya's iron gaze and nodded.

"Yeah, I do. What of it?"

"If that is true, then act like it and have faith in her."

His brown eyes widened for a moment, but then returned to normal. Ichigo saw the truth in Byakuya'a words and they eased his mind, but as he opened his mouth to reply he saw that the Kuchiki Lord had vanished.

"Thank you, Byakuya," he said anyway. "I needed that."

Soon enough the five hellish warriors were within _kido_ range, and Saika felt his heartbeat speed up despite himself as his brother's grinning face came in to view. Callos soon took a few more steps forward, flanked by Tenebros and Malachi.

"Saika Rovinarus," he said, "I challenge you to meet me on the field of battle for the sacred contest of might known as _morituri_. Do you accept?"

"I do," Saika said solemnly. "May our blades speak for us, and our wills decide who shall be left standing when the storm is calm and the night has fallen."

The brothers vanished with a crack, leaving Ulquiorra and Grimmjow staring down their respective opponents. Malachi gave Ulquiorra a half bow.

"Shall we?"

The two stoics disappeared as well, and Grimmjow flashed Tenebros a murderous grin.

"I'm gonna enjoy evisceratin' you, wannabe!" he called out, and the last pair flickered away.

The two Horsemen that remained looked over the faces of the Captains before them, sizing them up.

"Well, this is quite rude of us, Pestilence," War rumbled, and the scabby Horseman looked over at his comrade curiously.

"What is, War?"

"We can't fight a duel against more than one opponent; that just wouldn't be right. But then what are the rest of these Soul Reapers going to do? They don't strike me as the type of people who like standing around."

Pestilence grinned widely, a gesture that sent shivers down a few of the Captains' spines.

"You know, War," he said, "I think you have a point there. Fortunately, I have the solution to the problem!"

The disease-ridden Horseman clapped his hands powerfully and the two remaining legions of demons shimmered into existence around them; they had been hidden under a field of some kind until now to mask their presence, only to emerge once the three most experienced demon fighters had been removed from play.

"Damn, there's a lot of them," Renji swore, readying Zabimaru. "Maybe we shouldn't have recalled the Lieutenants after all, huh?"

The Captains all wordlessly agreed with that sentiment, but it was too late for regrets to cloud their minds. Pestilence looked over the faces of his enemies, looking for one in particular. When he found him, the Horseman began to ready his bow and smiled.

"Eeiny, Meanie, Miney, Mo," he sang in a grating, high-pitched voice, "I'll fight you, Ju-shi-ro!"

Before the white-haired Captain could even blink, two arrows were racing towards him, shot from the bow he hadn't even seen get fired. His eyes widened in horror as he saw where the arrows were headed:

Right for his Soul Chain and Soul Sleep.

It was only thanks to millennia of training that Ukitake was able to deflect the arrow lunging towards the heart of his spiritual energy, but the one targeting his Soul Chain found its mark. Staggering, Jushiro found himself coughing up blood. Pestilence laughed, his eyes gleaming with hate.

"You feel it, don't you, child?" he hissed. "That boiling in your blood, the disease rising up and threatening to burn the life from your marrow? If I wanted to, I could accelerate it and kill you right now, but I think I'll let you suffer for a bit longer before the end."

With that he sunk two more arrows into the Thirteenth Division Captain, one for each shoulder. At his sudden cries of pain, the rest of the Soul Reapers were galvanized into action and leapt into the fray, some rushing to combat the demon horde while others faced down the Horsemen, murder in their resolve. Kyoraku scooped up his friend and vanished in an instant, no doubt hurrying to the Fourth Division as fast as he could. Pestilence gazed over the eyes of those who had stayed maliciously, imagining each and every one of them writhing in the grip of the plague he carried within his bones. One face stood out to him, though, and he locked eyes with the regal Kuchiki.

"I know I know you from _somewhere_," he said, recognizing the strength of the stare but not quite remembering where he had last seen it. Byakuya scoffed.

"I doubt I would ever have associated with garbage like you, demon." The look of disgust in his eyes was palpable, but it shifted to one of wariness when Pestilence began to giggle, the noise soon blooming into an all-out cackle.

"Oh, I remember now!" he said. "I wonder how I could ever have forgotten. After all, she was one of the sweetest souls I've ever claimed. So wracked by guilt and inadequacy… Gods, she was delicious."

"What are you babbling about?" Byakuya asked calmly, even as his heart began to beat almost imperceptibly faster in his chest. Pestilence grinned toothily, and replied. The voice that came out of his mouth, however, wasn't his.

It was Hisana Kuchiki's.

"Oh, Byakuya," he mimicked, as Rukia's eyes widened in horror and Byakuya's narrowed in indescribable rage, "these last five years have been like a dream to me…" Pestilence broke off his twisted mockery and laughed manically, his grating voice dominant once again.

"She succumbed so quickly to my illness it was sad. What a worthless whore."

Byakuya had drawn Senbonsakura and readied it for _shikai_ before he was even aware he had done it. Right as he was about to release it, though, a white blur flashed in the corner of his eye and Rukia engaged the Horseman, bringing Sode no Shirayuki down with a fury neither her brother nor Ichigo had thought her capable of.

"Why?" She shouted, tears running down her cheeks as she pushed against the bow that was blocking her blade and refused to give.

"Why did you kill my sister, you bastard!?"

Pestilence smirked.

"Because it amused me."

"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki. Tsukishiro!"

The white ring surrounded the Horseman and soon shot up in a massive pillar of ice. The prison hung in space for a moment, a crystallization of Rukia's blind rage, before shattering into countless glittering shards that made diamonds seem dull by comparison. Where she had expected to see nothing more than a pile of icicles, however, the young Kuchiki was shocked to see Pestilence standing tall and brushing some white crystals off of his shoulder. The only sign that he had even been hit by an attack was his slightly labored breathing and a few cuts on his chest. Rukia couldn't believe it; her _bankai_ had never failed to be more than enough power, and yet this monster had taken a direct hit like it was nothing. What was going on?

The Horseman cackled as if he could read Rukia's thoughts.

"No, you're not going crazy," he taunted, his head cocked to the side. "I'm just _that_ powerful. Now, what do you say we send you off to meet your sister? I'm sure she's just _dying_ to see you!"

Pestilence grinned with insane bloodlust as the _twang_ of a bowstring sounded yet again. Rukia closed her eyes tightly and waited for the end, but it never came. Opening her eyes hesitantly, Rukia's expression of fear gave way quickly to one of surprise and relief.

"Nii-sama…"

A shroud of rose-colored, petal-looking blades fluttered all around Rukia, keeping her safe from harm. A second later she found herself in Ichigo's arms, snatched away from the jaws of the Horseman by the fastest flash-steps anyone had ever seen.

"Are you all right, Rukia?"

The Kuchiki princess looked up into those brown eyes she knew so well and smiled, nodding. The look of relief on Ichigo's face faded as soon as he released her, replaced by stone-cold anger. He pulled on his mask and was about to go teach Pestilence a new definition of pain when an arm reached across his chest, stopping him. Ichigo looked over and was about to chew out the person who had stopped him when he froze, his Vizard eyes widening in a rare expression of fear. Byakuya Kuchiki's voice was so cold in that moment it would have frozen Hyorinmaru solid.

"This one is mine, Kurosaki Ichigo."

The orange-haired warrior thought he had seen fury in its purest form when he had fought his Hollow, a creature driven exclusively by raw, impulsive emotions. Looking into the murderous slits that Byakuya Kuchiki's normally impassive grey eyes had become, Ichigo realized just how wrong he had been. As Senbonsakura reformed, it let out a sound that everyone who could hear it recognized as a grief-stricken warcry. Even in the face of the advancing Byakuya Kuchiki, Pestilence retained his cocky grin.

"Aw, did I hurt the poor little Soul Reaper's feelings?"

Byakuya was beyond insults, flash-stepping away from the crowd and hissing the only words his mind could form through gritted teeth as soon as Pestilence appeared in front of him.

"_Bankai_. Senkei Senbonsakura Kageyoshi."

Senbonsakura dropped into the ground with a deep thrum of energy, bypassing the first phase of the _bankai_ completely and creating the dark blue dome that was the _Senkei_ form. Ichigo could only witness the power of the reiatsu it was emanating with awe, vowing to never make Byakuya Kuchiki angry again.

"I would hate to be that freak right now," Renji said, and Yoruichi nodded in agreement; even the Goddess of Flash, who had known Byakuya since they had been kids, was stunned by the strength of his _bankai_, glowing in the distance as reiatsu clashed within it again and again.

Seeing that his comrade had found someone to duel, War stepped forward and bowed. He might have been the embodiment of carnage, but he was also the manifestation of a warrior's honor.

"Who among you wishes to cross blades with a God?" he asked, and was meant with silence for a moment, until the sound of rumbling laughter to rival his own graced his ears. War looked over to see a face he had kept an eye on for years, and the Horseman smiled.

"Kenpachi Zaraki," he said by way of greeting, and the Captain smiled widely. War brandished his double-bladed sword and spoke.

"It has been too long since I have enjoyed a fight against one such as you. I daresay that if you had been born a demon, I might be in your place, and you in mine. Come, and let us see who is the strongest!"

"You're on!" Zaraki shouted, laughing madly as he clashed with the Horseman far enough away from the walls that there would be no interference in their duel.

"I guess that leaves us on cleanup detail," Ichigo said, and the few Soul Reapers who weren't fighting yet vanished to go assist their comrades with the legionaries.

* * *

Ulquiorra and Malachi broke apart yet again, the former of the warriors beginning to sweat. In stark contrast, Malachi stood stock still as blood rolled off of his blade in fat droplets.

"I think this battle has gone on long enough, pretender," Saika's former Captain said evenly, and Schiffer readied himself to defend against another strike. What Malachi had in mind, however, was much worse than that.

"_Animate, Saxara._"

As Malachi released the spirit of his blade, the rocks all around the two combatants began to coalesce into a golem that was at least 12 feet tall and thickly armored, eyes shining darkly as the energies of the earth that had been corrupted flowed into the form, giving it power and substance.

"Kill him."

The golem lunged forward with a primal groan, bringing both fists slamming down on Ulquiorra's head. Malachi allowed himself a rare smirk, but when the dust cleared from his attack it quickly vanished.

"Impossible…"

Schiffer was still alive, having released his zanpakuto to block the strike. Rising from one knee, the former fourth Espada kept one hand on his zanpakuto and began to charge up a _gran rey cero_ with his other one.

"Impossible?" He said, his tone perfectly calm. "A worm like you defeating someone like me is what is impossible."

A blinding burst of green light that put the aurora borealis to shame ripped through the golem, leaving nothing more than a pile of ashes and dust in its place. Malachi felt fear shoot through him for the first time in his life, but he mastered it quickly.

"I will not submit," he said, raising his sword and shifting the point towards himself. "I will not surrender to a half-breed like you, not while I still draw breath!"

Malachi plunged his blade into his heart, and for a moment it seemed like he had committed honorable suicide. But that notion was quickly dispelled when the sword liquefied, merging with his body and filling in all of his scars.

"What is this?" Ulquiorra asked, readying Carnefice and assuming a defensive stance. Malachi waited until the melding was complete, and then he replied in a smug tone.

"I have truly become one with my sword," he said, flexing his silver-streaked fist and causing a spire of rock to rise from the ground. "Its powers are now mine, completely and totally. Bear witness to my true strength, Ulquiorra Schiffer, and know the face of annihilation."

Ulquiorra narrowly avoided getting skewered by unleashing a _mezzaluna_ wave purely on reflex, but a shard of rock still embedded itself in his sword arm's shoulder.

"Damn it," he cursed, pushing Malachi's laughter out of his mind as he thought up a counter attack.

"There are no counters for my attacks in this form, Schiffer," his rival called out. "As the earth surrounds you, so do I. As is lies below your feet every moment you touch the ground, so do I. I will swallow you whole, pretender!"

Malachi raised both hands, causing Ulquiorra to be isolated on a single circle of rock as the rest of the earth around him rose into the air and morphed into massive spikes.

"Let's see if Saika will still recognize your corpse after I tear it into a thousand pieces!"

Ulquiorra felt the sun cease to shine upon his face, and he sighed. There was no helping it now; he had to break the promise he had made to himself the day he had been transformed into an arrancar. The former fourth Espada relaxed his _resurreccion_, slamming the now normal-looking katana into the ground. Closing his eyes and drawing a deep breath, he put his hands to his temples just as the rocks consumed him.

* * *

"How many of these bastards are there?" Ichigo shouted, cleaving through what felt like the millionth fork-tongued monstrosity.

"Just shut up and keep fighting, Ichigo!" Renji called back, but both of them crouched instinctively when the aftershock of Byakuya's unchained reiatsu hit them at the same time as an echo of Zaraki's fully unsealed energy. The force of the combined shocks alone was enough to shear the demons in front of the Soul Reapers in half, and the two friends stood up slowly.

"Damn…"

Ichigo turned around just in time to see a demon lunging at him with a sword aimed at his neck, but before the Soul Reaper could defend himself his enemy found itself impaled on the end of a very sharp lance.

"Watch your back, Ichigo!" Neliel called to him before galloping off.

"It's hard to imagine that's the same kid we found in Hueco Mundo," Renji said, and Ichigo could only nod, exhaling in relief.

"You got that right."

Yoruichi and Urahara stood back-to-back, still besieged by demons and beginning to break sweats.

"This is just like old times, eh, Kisuke?" the Shihoin princess said with a smirk, and the 12th Division Captain allowed himself a small chuckle. The sound promptly died in his throat, though, when he heard Sajin Komamura give out an anguished roar. Setting his mouth in a grim line, Urahara decided to end this skirmish here and now.

"This has gone far enough, Yoruichi," he said to his best friend. "Get everyone at least 100 yards away from me, _now._"

Yoruichi's eyes widened as she realized what Kisuke planned to do, and she shivered.

"Kisuke," she said, her tone pleading, "you don't have to…"

"_Do it_."

She could hear Benihime seeping into his voice, and the golden-eyed princess knew that he had passed the point of no return. Sighing sadly, Yoruichi vanished from her friend's side and rounded up all of the Captains and other friendly combatants, flash-stepping them as far away from Urahara as she could. As Ichigo squirmed in her surprisingly strong grip, he shouted at his former teacher.

"What're you doing, Yoruichi? Put me down; I have a battle to fight!"

"This battle is no longer yours to fight, Kurosaki," Hitsugaya said with deadly seriousness. "And even if it was, you wouldn't want to be one step closer than you are now to Kisuke Urahara's _bankai_."

"His… _bankai_?" Ichigo repeated, confused. "But he said…"

"That it could not be used to train, or to give power," Yourichi finished. "That is because it is a force of pure destruction, Ichigo. _Oketsu Hayate_…

"The Dark Blood Hurricane."

Ichigo watched in awe-struck horror as the man he knew as an eccentric shopkeeper rose into the air, his _haori_ stained with streaks of dark crimson and his normally slate-gray eyes shifting to match them. When he had risen high enough, he spoke with a harsh, yet chillingly musical tone; it was his own voice blended with that of his zanpakuto: Benihime, the Red Princess.

"Your blood gives you great power," he said, "power scum such as yourselves do not deserve. Give it to me, and gaze into the abyss of your own destruction!"

The possessed form that was Kisuke Urahara flexed his outstretched palms, literally ripping the blood from the veins of the demons below him. The black liquid rose into the air at the bidding of its new master, where it began to rotate in a circle around him. The building storm gained more and more strength as more demonic blood rose to join it, and after a few moments it eerily resembled a Hurricane.

"I see you have some strength left in you yet," Urahara said maliciously as he gazed down upon his prey, the demons that were holding onto what was left of their reiatsu in a desperate attempt to survive.

"Let us remedy that, shall we?"

As the blood in the air began to spin faster and faster lighting formed out of friction, and soon enough the storm was moving fast enough to be a blur, black lightning striking down on the ground below with reckless abandon. Three quarters of the combined two legions were obliterated in moments, but before the final blow could be struck, the storm stopped moving entirely. The droplets of blood froze still in the air, and Ichigo couldn't help but wonder what Urahara could possibly be thinking stopping his attack.

The orange-haired Soul Reaper didn't have to wait long for the answer.

The droplets of blood elongated into spikes and hardened, and for a brief moment the Captain was surrounded by thousand upon thousands of razor-sharp spears. With an unholy smirk he brought his upraised arms down, and the spears screamed forward. Yoruichi closed her eyes and could not restrain a pair of tears; she hated seeing her kind, compassionate friend transformed into this monster more than anything in the world. The skies cleared and Urahara sunk back down to the earth, his _haori_ once more a pure white. All that remained in the wake of his wrathful _bankai_ was a field of corpses, a grim testament to his true power. Yoruichi was by his side in a flash to support her friend as he staggered from exhaustion, mumbling only two words before passing out entirely:

"Never again…"

Yoruichi sighed in grief, and hoped that they could obtain peace in Soul Society for long enough that Kisuke would be able to keep his oath.

* * *

Byakuya was torn and bloodied, but he did not feel the pain. His heart was pounding, but he was heedless of the buzzing in his ears. All that he knew was rage, and the adrenaline that kept him on his feet. Pestilence was lacerated from head-to-toe, Senbonsakura's merciless steel having left its mark on him with sadistic pleasure. The Horseman was directly responsible for the only event that had ever truly broken her master's heart, and the zanpakuto was more than happy to repay the favor a thousand times over. Even the released form of this monster hadn't caused Byakuya to as much as flinch when he had felt its reiatsu, but as the battle had worn on the duel had taken its toll. When the Kuchiki noble felt the strength ebbing swiftly out of him through his multiple wounds and he saw the edges of his vision go blurry, Byakuya knew it was time to end this duel. He did not want to die before he had claimed his vengeance.

"Shuhei Senbonsakura Kageyoshi: Hakuteiken."

Pestilence could only stare in fear and struggle against the myriad swords piercing his flesh as the rest of Senbonsakura faded into wisps and flowed into Byakuya's battered form, granting him the power for one final, devastating strike. White energy pulsed around him in the form of wings and a halo at his back, and the bloodied Captain charged towards his enemy at full tilt. Pestilence's final, anguished howl did not reach Byakuya's ears as he collapsed, exhausted and fading rapidly.

_Hisana, my love, it is done_, he thought out into the ether as his eyes fluttered closed.

Rukia moved faster than she ever had before and scooped up her brother's form, terrified by its lightness. Dashing like a madwoman to the Fourth Division Headquarters, she found herself face-to-face with an uncommonly haggard-looking Captain Unohana. The Captain's eyes widened as she took in Byakuya Kuchiki's eviscerated body, her fatigue replaced at once by adrenaline.

"Put him down on a bed over there, Rukia," she said, preparing her strongest healing _kido_.

"Is he going to be okay?" the younger Kuchiki asked nervously, and Unohana was silent for several moments as she surveyed the damage, leaving her Lieutenant to look after Captain Ukitake.

"He will live," Unohana said after several tense moments, "but during the initial stages of treatment I am going to have to insist on no interruptions whatsoever."

Rukia nodded, not wanting to leave her brother's side but knowing that Captain Unohana was doing her utmost to save his life. She vanished before tears came to her eyes, and Retsu sighed at the thought of the discord and heartbreak war always carried with it.

"You have several infections and a few viruses coursing through your system, not to mention severe blood loss and multiple broken bones," she said, as much to herself as to Byakuya. "Captain Kuchiki, what did you get yourself into this time?"

"H—Hisana," he rasped, in a brief moment of lucidity, before the darkness took him once again. Unohana smiled sadly, her eyes glimmering with rare tears.

"I see," she said, beginning to treat the wounds on his legs with glowing hands.

"Well, wherever she is, Captain, I have no doubt that she is proud of you."

Byakuya's eyes twitched in his sleep before relaxing, and Unohana's smile widened.

* * *

Malachi had expected his rival to be crushed, pulverized and utterly obliterated as soon as his attack closed in on the green-eyed former Espada, but instead he found his knees buckling slightly in fear as the sphere of rock exploded outwards. Ulquiorra stood in the epicenter of the blast, his fingers still on his temples. The first change Malachi noticed was a subtle one; the scars running down from Schiffer's eyes had changed from green to black. When the former fourth Espada opened his eyes, the demon saw that the change had been reflected in them, as well; Ulquiorra's pupils had become green, and his irises had darkened to black.

"I could have been one of the top three Espada, if I had wished it," he said, "but I found it more advantageous to possess control over a smaller amount of power than to have no control over a massive amount. So I carved in these restraints," here he motioned to the black scars running down from his eyes, "and vowed never to break their seals unless absolutely necessary. For, as I am sure even someone as idiotic as you can realize, to lose control of yourself on the field of battle is tantamount to defeat."

Malachi was unmoved by Ulquiorra's words, and snarled.

"Shut up and die, you trash!" he shouted as he charged, and Schiffer twisted his mouth in a rare smirk.

"That's my line," the former Espada quipped, shoving his hand through Malachi's chest just as his blade touched Ulquiorra's helmet. Feeling something pulsing in his hand, Schiffer raised an eyebrow.

"Strange," he said emotionlessly as Malachi choked on his own blood and bile, "I did not think you would possess a heart."

Ulquiorra dropped the faintly pulsing organ to the ground and made to withdraw his arm, but Malachi reached out with his free hand and held it still.

"If I am to die," he rasped out with his last, strained breaths, "then you are going with me!"

Focusing the rest of his demonic reiatsu into his sword, Malachi forced it down with the last of his strength and died before he hit the ground. But as he fell, so did white fragments resembling shards of bone.

Ulquiorra's Hollow mask remnants had been shattered.

"No…" The green-eyed former Espada whispered as he staggered back, clutching his head. He could already feel it beginning in his soul: the regression. Without his fragment, he was doomed to turn back into a Hollow, the ignominious fate that had befallen Dondochakka and Pesche, Nel's former Fraccion. His eyes shifted back to their normal colors and the pupils began to dilate and contract randomly, Ulquiorra's vaunted self-control quickly slipping as he struggled against the primal instincts rising up to swallow him. If he became a Hollow again… he didn't even want to think about the consequences of that. He would never be able to become a Vasto Lorde again, let alone a Gillian, and the Soul Reapers would probably kill him on sight once he was no longer of any use to them. And Nel…

His memories of her flashed across his mind like shooting stars, precious, fleeting jewels being swallowed up in the relentless night that spread across his being. He needed to stem the tide somehow, to stop the encroaching darkness and retain control of his will, but he lacked the strength, the power…

No.

As long as he had the will, he had the power. He had too much to do, too much to live for to give in to something so base. Reaching deep within himself to the demonic power he had inherited upon his death and descent into Hell, he threw open the gate that separated the bulk of it from the rest of his being, which until now had only possessed traces of it. He had been proud, determined to destroy his enemies without resorting to this power he perceived as a crutch.

But the time for pride was over: this was a matter of survival, pure and simple.

As if he was in someone else's body observing what was happening to him, Ulquiorra watched in grim satisfaction as the fiery orange reiatsu beat back the dark waves and forced them into submission, reining them in before banishing them to a deep corner of his soul. His being had returned to equilibrium, but the demonic energy that coursed through him now was foreign, and untamed; he would have to work hard to master it, but that could come later. His right hand sought out Carnefice out of habit and, to his shock, came up empty; his left then hesitantly moved up to where his Holllow Hole had been and felt smooth, whole flesh.

His lack of a zanpakuto and Hollow Hole unnerved him, but he let the feeling pass; for now, he was relieved to be sentient. Reflecting as he ran both of his hands through his slick hair, Ulquiorra saw that if Saika had not bolstered him with demonic reiatsu when he had made him his Captain, the former Espada would not have possessed the strength needed to master his own Hollow instincts. Looking east, towards where he felt Aron's reiatsu engaged in a vicious clash with Callos, Schiffer bowed his head in respect and gratitude.

"Thank you, Aron-sama," he said, his eyes returned to their normal green hue and glinting in the sun. "I, Ulquiorra Schiffer, swear that I will repay my debt to you, even if it takes a thousand lifetimes."

Placing his hand over where his Hollow Hole had been to seal his promise, the former fourth Espada and ex-arrancar vanished, wondering just what it was that he had become.

* * *

Grimmjow was pissed, but he was also a little bit grateful. He was pissed because the fucking pansy in front of him had managed to slash him up pretty good despite him having released Pantera, but he was grateful because at least his woman wasn't here to see it.

Yeah, he considered that feisty Captain his woman. He had beaten her into submission, after all. Anyone who had a problem with that would have to face him personally, and he wasn't about to let go of the first decent piece of ass he'd had in ages. That, and he'd be seeing a lot of her in the future as her temporary Lieutenant.

Which was another reason why Grimmjow was pissed; he was so close to a month of pure, animalistic bliss he could taste it, and yet this bastard Tenebros seemed hell-bent on denying him his right. As he felt the blood trickling down the bridge of his nose, he snarled.

"What's wrong, Grimmjow?" the demon taunted, licking the small trail of blood that ran down his own chin. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were slipping."

"Like hell!"

Jaegerjaques charged, feinting at the last moment and launching four darts from his elbow. One caught Tenebros right in the sternum, but the demon dodged the others by fractions of an inch.

"Bastard…" he grunted, yanking the barb from his chest and shattering it.

"I'm not done yet," Grimmjow hissed, taking advantage of his opponent's lapse and slashing a deep gash across Tenebros' chest. The demon hacked up blood and staggered back, disbelieving.

"I'm not—about to lose—to a half-breed usurper like you, Grimmjow! _Fracture, Schisan!_"

The former sixth Espada's eyes went wide as Tenebros broke into pieces before his eyes, each shard floating in the air and gleaming like a blade.

"What's wrong, Grimmjow?" a disembodied voice hissed. "Afraid you can't fight all of me at once?"

"No," the blue-haired warrior replied, smirking "you just look so fucked up that I lost my concentration for a second."

"Silence!"

The shards rushed at Jaegerjaques like a hailstorm on steroids, swarming him and carving gaps into his white armor like a hot knife slashing through butter. The storm of Tenebros' released form continued for a few moments before relenting, backing off when Grimmjow was so wounded that his _resurreccion_ form had disappeared on its own. Tenebros floated back together, cracking his neck twice when the gathering was complete.

"Man, that gets me every time," he groaned. "You have no idea what it's like to be so many places at once; straight-up discombobulating, I tell ya," Tenebros continued as he paced slowly towards the downed warrior, savoring the smell of his blood and relishing the feeling surging through his veins before the kill. Standing over the former Espada, Tenebros sneered.

"Look at you. So pathetic. I can't believe Saika chose you over me; what the hell was that bastard thinking? I should just kill you now, and put you out of your misery."

He raised his blade and gripped the hilt with both hands, preparing to drive it down through Jaegerjaques' back, but the demon stopped when he saw the fragment glinting in the sun on Grimmjow's cheek. Smiling wickedly, Tenebros got an idea.

"That's what's supposed to keep you freaks sane, is it?" he asked. "That bit of mask left over from your more primitive days? What'dya say we see what you're like without a sliver of control, eh, Grimmjow? Maybe then you'll at least be a bit of a challenge, if you can stand up, that is."

Tenebros reached down and gripped the fragment on Grimmjow's jaw and ripped it off, grinning viciously in satisfaction as it crumbled to dust in his hand.

_No…!_

The blue-haired former Espada had only a moment to react to the searing pain and grimace at his own weakness before chaos overtook his mind, a roiling black storm that threatened to rip down his control and pull him back to the level of the most basic Hollow. If that happened, he was beyond fucked; he had no illusions about what the point of Suzumebachi would do to him then, and he had no desire to be turned to ash by the lethal _shikai_. Then again, swift death was preferable to holding back this raging flood of nothingness that was quickly devouring his rational control and replacing it with pure impulse. Through his haze, Grimmjow heard Tenebros' acidic voice taunting him.

"Man, your mind is so much easier to read like this, Grimmjow! Hmm, what's taking you so long? What are you holding onto that's preventing you from falling into that chasm where your kind belong? Let's see… well, well, what do we have here? A woman? Really, Grimmjow? _That's_ what you're clinging to? Are you serious?! Then again," Tenebros mused mockingly, resting a hand on his chin, "she's not too bad when it comes to looks. Maybe I should take her for a spin or two, show her what real strength is, if ya catch my drift."

As the full meaning of Tenebros' insinuation crashed down around Grimmjow, something deep inside of him snapped. No way in _hell_ was this bastard going to even think about touching his woman and get away with it, much less live out his sick little fantasies. Jaegerjaques let his righteous fury well up in him, its surging, fiery power pushing back against the advancing waves of Hollowness. For the first time since becoming a Hollow, Grimmjow had been given something of substance to fight for, something to defend. A purpose.

A reason for a soul, even if it was a demonic one.

As the blazing orange typhoon struck out and crushed the pathetic black waves that had almost overcome him and forced them into a tiny sliver of his being, Grimmjow felt a wave of calm pass over him unlike anything he had felt before. He was still sane, but it was more than that.

He was whole.

The demonic powers his commander had bestowed upon him now flowed through his veins as freely as his own blood, giving him the strength to defend what was his by right. As he felt his Hollow Hole gradually disappear, Grimmjow smirked but kept his head down; he needed the element of surprise for this to work. Reaching out with his right hand as quickly as he could, Jaegerjaques powered up a blast of dark orange energy and was about to blow Tenebros' head off until he felt a hand grip his own strongly, forcing his hand to point upwards. Losing control of the energy, Grimmjow felt it shoot up into the sky and heard Tenebros' manic laughter.

"What, are you still trying to fight me? Just shut up and regress already, bastard."

"I was hoping you'd do that," Grimmjow said with murder in his voice, and before Tenebros could blink Jaegerjaques' other hand shot out and broke the demon's left leg clean in half.

"Thanks for leaving yourself so open, asshole," the former arrancar taunted, ignoring Tenebros' screams and cutting them off by grabbing his neck.

"Die."

The sharp sound of the demon's neck snapping brought a sadistic smile to Grimmjow's face, but it also brought him screeching back to reality. A hesitant hand felt the smooth flesh where there had once been a void, checking to see if his transformation had been a temporary thing and quickly realizing that the change had been quite permanent. So what did that make him? He wasn't an arrancar anymore; hell, he was barely even a _Hollow_, and that was all he had been for a long, long time. The simplest answer was that he was a full demon now, but Grimmjow knew there was more to it than that. Demons were supposed to be devoid of all attachment and positive emotion, but those were the very things that had given him access to this power. Besides, he still had a fragment of Hollow energy left in him, taking the place of the demonic energy that had been locked away in his soul until now.

Too tired for further introspection, Grimmjow rose to his feet and sighed. Noticing with satisfaction that his bleeding was beginning to slow down and stop already, the blue-haired warrior sped towards the Seireitei, heart pounding for a whole different reason.

* * *

Kenpachi Zaraki had never fought a more exhilarating or infuriating battle in his life. This guy took all the punishment the Eleventh Division Captain could pour out, and he gave just as good as he got. If he kept getting slashed up like this, he might have to resort to kendo again, like he had against Nnoitra. The Captain shuddered, hoping he wouldn't have to stoop that low to win.

"What's wrong, Kenpachi? Do you wish to take a respite?"

Zaraki gave the Horseman a feral smile, readying his jagged zanpakuto once again.

"Only if you need one, old man."

War laughed, his teeth shining in the light of Kenpachi's reiatsu.

"Very well. Then prepare yourself, young Kenpachi, for I will patronize you no longer. Out of respect for a fellow warrior, I shall fight you now at the peak of my power! _Destroy, Rudra!_"

Kenpachi flinched at the overwhelming reiatsu that was released as War assumed his true form, but when he opened his eyes again an exasperated look quickly dominated his face.

"Again? Are you kidding me?"

Zaraki had been given enough trouble with Nnoitra's six arms and massive scythes, but even that form paled in the face of what the Eleventh Division Captain was staring at now.

Like the God of Destruction that War's weapon got its name from, the Horseman was now sporting eight arms, each one brandishing an intimidating trident.

"Quiver before my true might, and know how it feels to be engulfed by chaos!"

Kenpachi jacked his reiatsu up to the maximum, but even that only deflected five of the eight strikes. Nine razor-sharp prongs slammed into Zaraki's chest, and he flew away from the Horseman a harsh voice echoed in his head.

_Disgusting. If you had only known my name, maybe you wouldn't have disgraced us so shamefully._

Before his zanpakuto could reprimand him any further, darkness wrapped Kenpachi in her arms. Moments later he collided with the wall of the Seireitei, slumping forward with a groan. His fellow Soul Reapers only had a moment to gaze, stunned, at the defeated form of the fearless Eleventh Division Captain before War appeared before them, laughing.

"That felt good," he boomed, flexing his arms as the Soul Reapers looked at him with equal parts awe and abject terror. War gazed down at his opponents and focused on Ichigo, instinctively recognizing that he was the only one out of the group that presented a somewhat-fair fight.

"You, Vizard boy," he said, gesturing the masked Soul Reaper with two of his arms. "Will you be my opponent? I have no interest in crushing flies."

"If you will not battle with flies," an ancient voice that shook with power spoke out,

"Then perhaps you would challenge a dragon?"

The Soul Reapers turned collectively to behold Captain-Commander Yamamoto standing tall, Ryujinn Jakka free of its staff enclosure but not yet aflame. War smiled wide and his eyes flashed, surprised by this turn of events.

"Captain-Commander Shigekuni Yamamoto-Genryusai," the Horseman's voice rumbled happily. "This is quite a surprise! If one as ancient as you has finally tired of your existence, then it would be my pleasure to relieve your withered frame of its cares."

"Your rampage has gone far enough, demon," Yamamoto said forcefully, brushing off the Horseman's insults.

"You have mutilated a man I think of as my own son, brought more than one Captain to the edge of death, and now dare to assume that I will simply let you strike me down? You arrogance is appalling. If you wish to perish in a storm of searing, purifying flame, then I shall make it so. _Turn the universe to ash, Ryujinn Jakka!_"

Far from being afraid in the face of such dominating reiatsu, War flashed a grin and laughed, his voice like peals of thunder.

"So this is Ryujinn Jakka! I had heard many stories of its strength, but none of those compare to the sight of it. Truly marvelous, and a worthy opponent indeed!"

"If you have time to waste breathing, worm," Yamamoto spoke, "you have already lost this battle."

Yamamoto flash-stepped and appeared behind the Horseman, three of War's eight arms falling off and melting into ash in his wake. The demon roared and spun to face his enemy, but the Captain-Commander had already vanished. Another round of wracking pain lanced through the Horseman as he lost another three arms, leaving him normal save for his tridents and increased reiatsu.

"How…?" War breathed, struggling to surmount his pain and stunned by just how much power the old man possessed.

"There is not a shred of mercy in my heart for those who would attempt to ferment chaos," Yamamoto said harshly as he raised his sword high for one final strike,

"And there is certainly no compassion for a being that is chaos personified."

The Captain-Commander lunged forward and brought his blade crashing down, slicing through War's last feeble block and cutting the Horseman clean in half. He quickly but calmly resealed his zanpakuto and turned to face the other Captains, who were still astonished by the display of power from their Commander.

"Get the wounded inside the walls. Anyone who is capable of it, assist Captain Unohana with her healing efforts."

Most of the Captains vanished immediately, but Yoruichi was hesitant to leave.

"With all due respect, sir," she said, "may I humbly request to remain here, until Saika has returned to us?"

Yamamoto gave the barest traces of a smile and closed his eyes.

"Of course you may, Lady Shihoin. I, too, hope that he returns to us, and unharmed. We will undoubtedly need his power in the battle to come."

In a few moments the field of battle had all but cleared of people, leaving Yoruichi, Neliel and Soi Fon looking expectantly towards the horizon.

"Who're you waiting for, Soi Fon?" Yoruichi asked, puzzled. Soi Fon fought back a blush and growled her reply.

"An infuriating, blue-haired bastard."

Neliel looked over and raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Surely you don't mean Grimmjow?" she asked, but when Soi Fon just blushed ever-so-slightly Nel realized that yes, she had meant Grimmjow.

"But what do you want with him?"

"We had a bet," the Second Division Captain replied shortly, her blush deepening.

Yoruichi smirked at the sight of her former Lieutenant in such a state, but before she had the chance to ask any questions two figures appeared walking towards them, jackets slashed up and bearing a few gashes but otherwise unharmed.

"Ulquiorra!" Neliel all but shouted, running towards the former fourth Espada. "You're all—what happened to your mask?" she asked, her eyes wide with horror as she rememebered what had become of Pesche and Dondochakka after Nnoitra had ripped their masks off. Schiffer saw the fear in her eyes and stepped forward, putting his hand lightly on her shoulder.

"I am fine, Neliel. Trust me."

"But… your Hole, it's gone!"

"I am aware of that," Ulquiorra said tersely, though not unkindly. "I have gone through some… changes, as has Grimmjow. I will tell you of them later, when there is time to spend on such things." He looked around, green eyes narrowing when he did not find who he was looking for.

"Where is Aron-sama?"

"Not back yet," Yoruichi replied, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

"That's not good," Grimmjow said, shifting his gaze east.

"Callos must have been hiding more power than we thought," Ulquiorra said. "The last I felt they were still fighting each other, and that was some time ago."

Looking over at Soi Fon, Grimmjow moved to within whispering range and smirked.

"Better get those robes ready, sir," he breathed, making the Second Division Captain shiver lightly in spite of herself.

"Screw you," she hissed back, but with a kindred smirk gracing her face.

"Give it a few minutes," Jaegerjaques said, causing Soi Fon's blush to surge back onto her face. The pair's flirting was broken off sharply, however, when Yoruichi gasped sharply and forced out a single, stricken word.

"Saika…"

Five pairs were instantly riveted on the horizon, and the sight they witnessed there made their blood freeze.

Callos, in his released form and flexing two black, feathery wings that had grown from his shoulders, was dragging Saika's body through the dirt in front of him. The orange-eyed prince's body was marred with several cuts and had gone limp. Callos grinned wickedly and pushed his half-brother's body away from him, on its knees and facing towards the five anxious warriors. Yoruichi saw with horror that blood was leaking from an empty hole in the left side of Saika's face: his eye had been torn out.

"I suppose I should put him out of his misery, huh?" Callos said cruelly, raising his sword up and to the side as he prepared to decapitate his sibling. Yoruichi was about to flash-step in an attempt to stop the dark-eyed demon prince, but Neliel held her back and gave her a look that said 'You don't stand a chance against him.' Broken, the Shihoin princess could only watch in sorrow as the sword arced down towards Saika's neck, cringing in anticipation of the blood that would soon be splattered on the ground. Instead, all Yourichi heard was a dull clang. Opening her eyes, she saw something that almost made her cry out in joy.

Saika had somehow managed to raise his hand up and block the blade inches away from his throat, and Callos was now looking down at his sibling with an expression of shock as he tried to complete the stroke and found that his sword wouldn't budge.

"How…?" he breathed out, but he never got an answer. Instead, a surge of reiatsu sent him flying backwards, and only an instinctive flap of his wings kept the prince balanced. When his vision cleared, he saw that not only was Saika on his feet, but he was emanating a massive amount of spiritual energy considering that he had been a single slash away from death not ten seconds ago.

"I can see that you're wondering how I can do this," Aron said, his voice dripping with hatred. "Since it's the least I can do before I rip your head from your shoulders, I'll tell you.

"Your last attack cut my soul in half, which you assumed killed me. This wouldn't be stupid to think, except that you should have remembered one very crucial piece of information. Ever since our father ripped his power away from me, my soul has existed in two halves naturally.

"If anything, you actually helped me, brother. Thanks to you, that whole yin-yang thing got dealt with when my soul knit itself back together, and now it's one solid whole. Instead of rejecting each other, my Soul Reaper and demon powers have melded together. Do you know what that means? No? Fine, then I'll just show you," Saika finished, holding his sword out in front of him and planting his feet.

"_Bankai_."

When the resulting cloud of dust had cleared, the five observers found themselves staring at something that should have been impossible to create: the ultimate form of a Soul Reaper-Demon hybrid, a being that was terrifying even when it wasn't at full-strength. A wreath of blazing demonic energy sat on Saika's head like a crown, his single eye blazing blue with Soul Reaper reiatsu while the space in his empty socket glowed red-orange like embers. Rather than sprout actual wings like his sibling, Saika was framed by a pair of wings forged out of pure spirit particles, the neutral balance between demonic and Soul Reaper energies. His tattered robes had mended themselves, and now Aron stood tall like the royalty that he was, staring his half-brother down as his fangs glinted hungrily in the sunlight. Seeing the look on Callos' face, Saika laughed.

"What's the matter, brother? Afraid? You were so confident a moment ago when I was on my knees and about to die; why are you scared to strike now?"

Spurred on by Saika's taunt, Callos shot a beam of demonic energy from his hand and smirked as his brother did nothing to defend it. A moment later, though, his eyes widened as he saw Saika standing there, his wings having formed a barrier to block the attack. They pulled back and flexed open completely, revealing a grinning Saika.

"I just wanted to see if that would work," he said, "and I guess it does. Well, brother, as much as I would love to cause you excruciating amounts of pain I'm fighting on borrowed time here, so if you don't mind I'm going to end this right now."

Focusing Soul Reaper reiatsu in one hand and demonic reiatsu in the other, Aron slammed the two together and let the reaction do the rest. An explosion of chaotic energy lanced through Callos' chest, leaving a smoking hole where his sternum and most of his ribcage had used to be. The dark-eyed prince, however, had no intention of going gently into the night. Gathering what was left of his fading energy, he charged at his brother with his sword raised and eyes smoldering with rage. Saika blocked the first strike, but Callos pushed through with surprising force and raked his blade across Aron's shoulder. Saika hissed through the pain and the two siblings exchanged a flurry of strikes back and forth, the doomed Callos refusing to give his last inch without a fight.

Feeling his bones cracking under the combined force of fatigue and the injuries he had sustained during their first duel, Saika realized that if he didn't do something immediately he might not survive the fight. Seeing Callos charging at him, Aron closed his eyes and tensed every muscle in his body for what would be his final strike. Opening his eyes as he felt the blade falling towards his head, Saika shot forward from under the sword's path while striking with his own, severing Callos' head from his shoulders. As he felt the last traces of the prince's reiatsu vanish, Saika relaxed his _bankai_ and let his exhaustion overtake him. The last thing he saw before passing out was a pair of glittering golden eyes, shining with relief.

* * *

The fragment of Sosuke Aizen's reiatsu that had been released by Death hovered in the air, desperately trying to locate its master but feeling no kind of resonance from him. After hours of wandering, though, the lonely energy was greeted by three other similar bodies, and they all merged together into a single, much stronger orb of reiatsu. Using a form of echolocation, the glowing blue orb soon singled out an incredibly faint trace of its master's presence and raced toward the location, only to shrink back in shock at what it witnessed.

Aizen had, in fact, been used for target practice. Riddled with a dozen arrows and lined with streaks of blood, the broken body was rapidly deteriorating and a Hollow Hole was forming on his chest. The energy instinctively knew it was incomplete, and that a final portion of it still rested with the Horseman known as Famine. But it also knew that if it did not act soon, both it and its host were going to cease their existence entirely. The reiatsu plunged back into Sosuke Aizen's body and raced towards his soul, hoping that being incomplete wouldn't result in any adverse side-effects.

* * *

_Sosuke Aizen's Spirit World_

Aizen was suspended in darkness, and had been ever since that bastard Mortos had stolen his reiatsu from him. If he ever got his hands on him, the former Captain swore he would kill him, slowly and oh-so-painfully.

Suddenly, like someone had flipped a giant light switch, Aizen's Spirit World came back to life. It was a reflection of the throne room in Las Noches, but Sosuke saw very quickly that something was amiss. A figure was sitting on his throne, giving him the cocky smirk that he had flashed so many times. But that wasn't the most distinctive thing about the figure in the slightest, and Aizen felt his heart constrict in fear and anticipation when he saw that the figure was pure white, with a pair of malicious yellow eyes.

He had finally gained an Inner Hollow.

Now, if he could just master it, his power would be unrivaled, even by that brat Ichigo Kurosaki. The Hollow's smirk widened into a smile.

"I know what you're thinking, partner," it said, "and there's no way you're possibly going to defeat me, especially when you only have 80 percent of your power. _I_ rule here, and you should just accept that."

Aizen reached for his hip and found to his relief that Kyoka Suigetsu was waiting for him, and he drew his zanpakuto with a hiss. The blade was a bit duller than normal, reflecting Aizen's weakened state, but it would serve. The Hollow got up from the throne and chuckled, rolling its head around on its neck and cracking the joints in his shoulders to prepare for a fight. Drawing a green blade with silver hilt-wrappings, the Hollow assumed a fighting stance.

"If you honestly think you can beat me, you're welcome to try," it sneered, "but I will have no mercy on you if you lose."

Aizen flashed a smirk of his own.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

The fallen Captain charged, light flaring brightly as the combatants clashed.

* * *

Orihime and Ishida were enjoying a walk together after school and relishing the light breeze that fluttered around them. The Quincy's hand rested by his side, agonizingly close to Orihime's but still empty. Forcing himself to keep a straight face while his heartbeat chose to be as erratic as possible, Uryuu kept his cool by paying an inordinate amount of attention to everything around him _except_ the girl next to him. When Orihime let out a shriek and grabbed the Quincy's arm so hard it jostled his glasses halfway off of his face, Uryuu had no choice but to look into her deep gray eyes and try to stay calm.

"What's wrong, Orihime?"

The red-haired girl pointed her other hand off into the distance.

"Look!"

The archer readjusted his glasses and looked where Orihime was pointing, his breath catching in his throat as he saw what had startled her:

A Gate of Hell stood tall and ominous, ushering a swelling horde of demons into the near-defenseless Human World. A wasted and lanky figure sat astride a black horse at the head of the host, laughing madly at the thought of the entire world being consumed by an unquenchable hunger and devouring itself.

"This isn't good," Orihime forced out past her fear, and Uryuu nodded.

"We should find Chad, and fast. He needs to know about this; the three of us are the only ones that can do anything about this until Ichigo decides to show up."

Orihime nodded frantically and the two friends ran off in search of Chad, hoping that they could find the gentle giant before it was too late.

* * *

The figure stood perched on top of the roof, watching the reiatsu crackle in the distance like a tempest as her burnt-orange eyes narrowed in worry. A blast of wind knocked the red band out of her dark, blue-black hair and she cursed, snatching it back a second before it had fluttered out of her reach for good. That thing had been really expensive, and she was damned if it was going to just blow away like last time.

The memories returned to her in a gentle wave, comforting, not at all like the broken, jagged flashbacks she had experienced before. Memories of the brown-eyed Soul Reaper who had saved her time and time again, and had never asked for anything in return. If only he were here now, he would certainly know what to do. But he was off doing who knows what, leaving her to deal with this new mess herself. Shifting effortlessly into her Soul Reaper form, Senna felt a pang in her heart and sighed. It just wasn't the same without him.

_Wherever you are, Ichigo, _she thought, _hurry up and get back here._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, that was ridiculous. This chapter turned out to be much longer in word form compared to the images I had floating around in my head, but like I said earlier, I didn't want to break it in half and sacrifice the tension. The next chapter is going to be substantially calmer, focusing on the rehabilitation of the injured, Karin's training, and Ulquiorra and Grimmjow's attempts to learn about and master their newfound powers. So, for any of you who wanted more character development than there was, that's all coming next chapter.

Also, the character in the last scene is Senna from the movie "Memories of Nobody". If you haven't seen it yet, it's floating around on the internet subbed in english; check it out, it's good stuff.

Hope you enjoyed it, and **Please Review**; it really is appreciated and makes cranking out these chapters possible.

See you next time!


	13. Rise From The Ashes

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any of its characters; Tite Kubo does. I do, however, claim ownership of this story, its plot and the OCs contained herein. Please do not use them (my OCs) without first asking me for permission. Thanks.

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 13: **Rise From The Ashes

* * *

Jushiro Ukitake's brown eyes opened slowly, almost hesitantly, as if he knew that waking up would bring all of the deferred pain crashing down on him. Surprisingly, he felt fine. Better than he ever had before, actually.

Except that it also felt like part of his soul had been gouged out. The white-haired Captain's pitiless memory was quick to remind him that his Soul Chain had been severed by the Horseman known as Pestilence, and he sighed as he sunk further into his hospital bed. Part of him just wanted to get swallowed up by the abundance of blankets around him, but that gloomy train of thought was promptly derailed when a certain floral-cloak-wearing Captain swept into his peripheral vision wearing one of the biggest smiles Ukitake had ever seen.

"Jushiro, you're awake!"

Even Ukitake had to raise an eyebrow at his friend's demeanor. Sure, he was usually cheerful, but he hadn't been _this_ cheerful in a long, long, time, much less during the middle of a war.

"Yes, I suppose I am," he replied warily, peering into his comrade's face and trying to find out what had him so happy. Too tired to continue after a few moments, he slumped back onto the bed with a sigh.

"Spill it, Shunsui. Why are you so… sprightly all of a sudden?"

This time it was Kyoraku's turn to peer at his friend curiously.

"You mean you don't feel it?" he asked, and Ukitake shook his head.

"I don't know what you're referring to, old friend," he replied, "unless it's my lack of a Soul Chain. In that case yes, I do feel it, but I fail to see how that would make you happy."

"The Captain is referring to the alleviation of your illness, Captain Ukitake," Captain Unohana's gentle, calm voice chimed in. Jushiro looked over at the new arrival with wide eyes.

"Alleviation… of my illness? What are you talking about?"

Shunsui couldn't contain his joy any longer and burst out laughing.

"You're _cured_, Ukitake!"

It took a moment for what his friend had said to float through Jushiro's fatigued brain, but when it did his eyes shot open.

"What? How?" He asked frantically, not believing his ears or his eyes. Or much of anything, for that matter. Unohana smiled and spoke.

"When that demon's arrows hit you, Captain, it introduced a number of viruses into your system. Fortunately for us, those viruses quickly became competitive and turned on each other, nullifying their harmful effects until only one was left. It was a particularly malignant strain, but at its base it was something I have had much experience in treating. I cured it, and during my post-operative examinations I was quite shocked to find that your other illness, the one which we could not find a treatment for, had been caught in the crossfire of the viruses and overwhelmed. Simply put, there isn't even a trace of it left in your system. You are completely cured, Captain."

Jushiro felt a wave of relief wash over him so strongly it almost knocked him out.

"Easy, old friend," Captain Kyoraku cautioned. "You've been through a lot; get some rest."

A single dark thought slipped through the haze of happiness that was Ukitake's world at the moment and loomed over him like a terrible shadow.

"I'm not fit to be Captain anymore, am I?"

Despite the fact that he was cured, his powers had been maimed by the loss of his Soul Chain. Even if he recovered by the end of this day, it would still take months and months of training to get back to his normal level of strength.

"Don't worry about that right now," Unohana said in a voice that was somehow gentle and terrifyingly stern. "You need your rest, and your sleep will be far too troubled if you dwell on thoughts like that. Captain Kyoraku," she finished, "I believe visiting hours are over. If you would be so kind…"

"Of course, Captain Unohana," he said with a flourish and a bow before vanishing.

"How many did we lose, Captain?"

Unohana looked down at the white-haired Captain and gave a small smile.

"None, fortunately, but some combatants sustained more than their fair share of injuries."

Ukitake looked over to see Byakuya Kuchiki and Saika Aron nearby, the spiky hair of Kenpachi Zaraki also visible in the distance.

_We really have this many people sidelined?_ He thought, wondering what they would do if the demons decided to attack again. _I just hope we made it worth the cost._

* * *

"Have you been to see him yet, Yoruichi-san?"

The Shihion princess gave her friend a weak smile.

"Where do you think I'm coming from, Kisuke? I would have stayed longer, but all of that leaking reiatsu was starting to suffocate me."

"You should probably get some sleep," Urahara suggested, rubbing at his temples while he leaned over his favorite desk. Yoruichi walked towards her friend and put an arm concernedly around his shoulder.

"You don't look too good yourself," she said, but Urahara shrugged the comment off without displacing her arm.

"It's just temporary," he replied. "Benihime has a habit of staying under my skin for a while once I let her loose; I'll be fine in a day or two."

"Whatever you say," Yoruichi muttered, hoping that her friend was right but knowing that she couldn't dissuade him if she tried.

"So, what're you working on now?"

"A device to amplify the particular spirit energy wavelength emitted by a zanpakuto that allows for communication between it and its wielder."

"A _shikai_ accelerator? Why would you make one of those?"

"Because far too few people have died to convince me that this war is over, Yoruichi," Kisuke answered, his voice stone cold. "We have been given the luxury of a respite, and I plan on using every waking moment I have to make sure Seireitei is prepared when that respite comes to an end."

The Shihoin princess sighed and left the laboratory, knowing that trying to reason with Urahara was a lost cause when he had that look in his eyes. Deciding to suck it up and brave the Fourth Division one more time, Yoruichi flash-stepped away and wondered what she was more worried about: being strangled by so much raw reiatsu, or being scolded by Retsu Unohana because visiting hours were over. Thinking about it for a moment before she stepped through the door, the golden-eyed woman decided on the latter choice when she came face-to-face with the Captain herself. The scolding she was expecting, however, did not come. Instead, Unohana just smiled.

"What are you waiting for, Yoruichi-sama?" she asked. "Your seat is open, as always."

When she hesitated, Captain Unohana's smile widened ever so slightly.

"Do you honestly think I'm going to scold you for visiting a loved one because visiting hours are over? Don't be ridiculous, Yoruichi-sama," she finished over her shoulder as she went to tend to Byakuya. Yoruichi smiled and went to sit down by Saika's bedside, only to have his hand reach out and grab her wrist. A hasty glance revealed that his eye was still closed, but a pained groan was more than enough evidence that he was awake.

"Pain…killers…" he hissed, and in an instant Unohana was on the other side of Saika's bed, a syringe ready.

"You called, Aron-san?" she asked, a whisper of amusement in her voice as she administered her treatment. Yoruichi was alarmed for a moment when Saika passed back out, but the smile on his face relaxed her worries.

"He probably won't wake up until tomorrow morning, Yoruichi-sama," Captian Unohana spoke. "If I were you, I would get some rest."

Yoruichi nodded in agreement before vanishing, and Unohana sunk into the nearest chair with a sigh. This was tiring work, to say the least.

"Don't tell me even the great Retsu Unohana is fatigued," a faint, but wryly amused voice spoke from nearby. The Captain was on her feet in an instant, hurrying over to Byakuya's bedside.

"Please try not to exert yourself, Captain Kuchiki," she urged. "And my personal condition is nothing you should trouble yourself over."

"You are being ridiculous, Captain. Do not do yourself the disservice of self-pity; it does not become one of your stature. As for exertion, this is nothing. I should be on my feet by morning, if the strength of Senbonsakura is anything to go by."

Unohana smiled.

"That is good to hear, Captain Kuchiki," she said, as Isane walked into the room.

"It's time for my shift, Captain Unohana," she said quietly, and Retsu nodded.

"Very well, Lieutenant. If you would excuse me, Captain Kuchiki," she said, and Byakuya nodded. When they were alone, Byakuya spoke to Isane in a tone that was the closest thing to admiration the Kuchiki noble possessed.

"Your Captain is a very dedicated woman," he said, and Isane sighed as she nodded.

"I can only hope that this conflict won't exhaust her completely, Captain Kuchiki."

"Do not worry, Lieutenant," he replied. "She will be fine. I, on the other hand, could do with some poppy extract."

"But I thought I heard you say that you were fine."

Byakuya gave her a surprisingly casual look, considering his pain.

"I lied, Lieutenant," he said. "The Captain has enough on her mind already without worrying about me. Now, about that poppy extract…"

The insistent edge in his voice snapped Isane back to her duties.

"At once, Captain Kuchiki."

Byakuya allowed himself to relax, and a small smile crossed his face when he saw that Saika was awake, if drugged into a stupor at the moment, and Kenpachi had a smile on his face that spoke of inner-battle with his zanpakuto.

Maybe there was still hope to be found, after all.

* * *

"Up."

When Karin heard that word for what felt like the two hundredth time, all she wanted to do was die. Again. Nonetheless, she forced herself up with her arms to complete yet another push-up.

"Tell me again how this is supposed to help me learn the name of my zanpakuto, sensei?"

Ichimaru's even face quirked with the hint of a smile.

"It's not."

"What?" Karin shouted, all of her fatigue forgotten as she sprang up to her feet and glared angrily at her now-grinning teacher.

"Then why the hell are you wasting my time with it?"

"Because, let's say you do somehow manage to call out your zanpakuto's _shikai_ form, hypothetically speaking. What would you do if it was, say, a battle axe?"

Karin scoffed.

"Like I would ever use something like that to fight."

Ichimaru's grin vanished.

"The point is that you do not know what form it will take, and because of that you must be prepared to wield whatever might emerge. And besides, even if it was something like a sword," he finished, "what's the point of holding a blade if you lack the strength needed to swing it?"

Even in her frustration, Karin saw the wisdom of her teacher's words and bowed her head.

"Forgive my impudence, sensei," she said, but Gin just chuckled breezily.

"Don't go apologizing for something like that," he replied. "Everyone's like you at the start; it's nothing to be ashamed of. Now," he said, removing his cloak and taking off his zanpakuto, "I think you've done enough push-ups for today. It's time for some hand-to-hand training."

Karin's knees buckled in protest, and she bit back a groan.

"But, sensei, I can barely…"

Ichimaru cut her off with a quick jab to the head that Karin only dodged thanks to her innate uncanny reflexes, and she found herself staring right into a pair of glittering blood-red eyes.

"Most enemies would not have been as merciful with that strike as I was, Kurosaki," he said seriously. "Your opponents will not wait for you to regain your strength; they'll exploit any and all openings that you give them without mercy. I will train you to do the same, but first you must prove to me that you're willing to push yourself to the limit."

Karin's dark eyes were suddenly alight with a spark that reminded Gin of her brother as she slipped into a fluid Jeet Kune Do stance.

"Oh, I can push, all right," she said as reiatsu began to build up in her arms and legs on instinct.

"Let's see if you can hold me back!"

Her quick punch was followed up by a vicious snap kick that almost made Ichimaru move back a step. Instead, he simply shifted his weight, moved to the left and made to strike at Karin's unprotected side. She read his moves every step of the way and smirked.

"So predictable," she said, bringing her leg back and hooking it around Gin's head before completing the motion and pulling him down to the ground.

"Likewise," he hissed, pushing out of the grip of Karin's leg and sweeping her legs out from under her, sending her falling to the ground while he rose to his feet. Before she could rise, Gin's foot was on her sternum and applying just enough pressure to immobilize her.

"That was a good attack, I'll admit," he said as his cool eyes looked down into Karin's blazing black orbs, "but the finisher left you wide open. Here's your first lesson: if you're going to use an attack that leaves you open in any way, make sure you can stop that opening from being attacked before you commit. Is that clear?"

Karin nodded, and Gin removed his foot from her chest.

"Good," he said, assuming a stance once more.

"Again."

Karin charged and jumped into a flying kick, only to have Ichimaru sidestep, grab her leg and fling her into a rock.

"The flashier the technique, the weaker it is," he said matter-of-factly. "Get up."

Karin forced her bruised body upright and sighed.

This was gonna be rough.

* * *

Grimmjow stood on the bridge and stared out at the full moon, marveling at how much brighter it was than the permanent crescent moon that hung in the sky of Hueco Mundo. Feeling the presence emerge behind him, he tensed for the briefest of moments before relaxing.

"What're you doing here, Ulquiorra?" he asked.

"I could not sleep," he replied. "You?"

"The Captain had a bunch of bureaucratic bullshit to do, so I'm out here enjoying the weather and trying to ignore my blue-balls."

"Charming," Schiffer said with the barest trace of sarcasm in his voice, and silence hung between the two comrades for a few moments as they looked up at the stars.

"What have we become now, Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra asked, his normally impassive tone laced with concern and morbid curiosity.

"Beats me," the former sixth Espada answered with a shrug. "All I care about is that I'm not a sub-Gillian right now."

"I do not think we are even Hollows anymore," Schiffer said, trying to form a basic _bala_ in his hand and only coming up with a faintly-sparking wisp of green energy that faded as rapidly as it had come.

"The essence of what made us Hollows has been suppressed within us almost to the point of annihilation," he continued, "and our holes, masks and zanpakuto are gone. What is the energy within us now, Grimmjow?"

"Feels like demon energy, almost," the blue-haired warrior said, "but it's different in some way; more intense."

Grimmjow formed a small orb of orange energy in his hand, keeping it hovering above his palm for a moment before extinguishing it."

"I don't know what it is," he continued, smirking, "but it sure as hell feels good."

Ulquiorra let out a faint sigh.

"No doubt Aron-sama will have answers for us, when he recovers."

Jaegerjaques grunted, his blue eyes shining in the light of the moon. The two former arrancar stood on the bridge for some time, lost in thought and seeking understanding that would not come. Soon enough Ulquiorra murmured a goodbye and walked away, annoyed by his lack of _sonido_. Grimmjow gazed at the constellations shifting subtly in the sky and wondered why he was feeling so philosophical all of a sudden until a presence appeared at his side once again. He smiled; this visitor was much more welcome than Ulquiorra.

"We have some unfinished business, Lieutenant," Soi Fon said, and Grimmjow very nearly shivered at the way his new title rolled off of her tongue. Turning his piercing eyes on the Second Division Captain, Jaegerjaques gave her a predatory grin that made her stomach do backflips.

"Lead the way, sir," he growled hungrily. Soi Fon promptly lost all self-control, grabbed one of Grimmjow's arms and vanished in a flash-step so fast it left a scorch mark on the bridge.

* * *

Ulquiorra traded the bridge for the balcony of his room, but the view and the uncertainty it instilled within him were unchanged. Ever since the moment his Hollow Hole had vanished, the former fourth Espada had been assaulted by a variety of emotions he had never experienced before. Excitement. Anticipation. Fear. Pain. Sadness. Happiness. _Compassion_.

Part of him cringed at that, but the truth of the matter was unavoidable:

Somehow, Ulquiorra Schiffer had been given a soul, and a heart had followed.

Just how this had come about was a mystery, one that for the first time, he had no burning desire to analyze and figure out. This was something he just wanted to box up, to put far, far away from him and never deal with again. He had sworn never to feel compassion again, even in the Hollow sense of the word, and now he was struck by it with such intensity that it approached human levels. What in the name of all that was holy was happening to him? What on earth had caused it? Restless, he began to pace methodically back and forth trying to calm down his now-pounding heart. When his gaze swept across the room and fell upon the sleeping form of the former third Espada, everything clicked in to place with a clarity that horrified Ulquiorra.

He was in love. _That_ was what had lent him his resolve, and given him wholeness where there had been none before. It was impossible, unbelievable, but at the same time undeniable. Even though his feet felt like lead, he walked over to the bed step by agonizing step and gazed down upon the person who had shattered his universe and rebuilt it from the rubble. In that moment he wanted to hate her more than anything, to scream and yell and curse and denounce her for ruining him so completely, but he found with a shocking immediacy that he couldn't do any of those things. The anger that he would have felt in any other situation was replaced by a feeling he could only describe as a sort of pained longing that stung much deeper than anger ever could. It was too much; if he had possessed a single modicum less of self-control, he might have shed a tear for the first time in his existence. As it was, he simply collapsed onto the empty side of the bed, too tired to move, let alone think. Before he let the darkness take him away, Ulquiorra found the strength to speak, if only for a moment.

"You have destroyed me, woman," he said, his voice the normal, emotionless tone. But then it shifted, becoming softer, and vulnerable.

"Thank you… Neliel. I… love you."

His voice was no higher than a whisper, and a strained one at that. Schiffer closed his eyes as exhaustion overtook him, and he did not see the smile that spread across the face of the woman next to him. He also failed to witness the small tear of happiness running down the side of her face, and the mask on top of her head cracking in several places before breaking into splinters.

* * *

Grimmjow was puzzled. He was also puzzled as to why he was puzzled, because he was never usually what someone would call 'puzzled'. This was a head-scratcher for the ages, and he figured it somehow involved the woman currently lying next to him with her eyes closed and a smile on her face that reminded Grimmjow of a lioness after a successful hunt. Which made sense; if there was one thing tonight had been, it was successful. The former sixth Espada was sore in places he didn't even know existed. But that's not what puzzled him.

It was the feeling he was experiencing that got under his skin. It wasn't his usual sense of detachment, the state of being utterly unconcerned what happened to anyone around him. He was definitely attached to Soi Fon, but in a way that was completely unlike anything he had felt before. This was beyond simple possessiveness; sure, he would still eviscerate anyone who tried to move in on his claim, but there was an undercurrent of emotion that told him to protect her, to value her safety above his own. The answer had been dangling in front of him the whole time, but it wasn't until Grimmjow reached forward out of instinct and brushed some stray hairs away from Soi Fon's eyes that the trap closed on him, and he realized he was in deep. Really, really deep.

"You have _got_ to be fucking with me…" he mumbled half in fear, not intending for Soi Fon to hear him. But his touch had woken her up, and she smiled wickedly as she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Well, if you put it that way," she said, before pouncing a split-second later. Grimmjow was all too happy to push love out of his mind for now and focus on lust instead; Cupid could wait for the morning as far as the former sixth Espada was concerned.

* * *

Saika woke with the sunrise, opening his eye as the first shafts of light poured through the windows. His hand instinctively reached for his empty socket and he panicked for a moment when he felt nothing. He quickly remembered what had happened, though, and his panic gave way to resignation. God damn his bastard brother for injuring him in such a disgraceful way. At least he still had one of the two, but it was the principle of the thing that stung more than the wound. Before he could ruminate over his injury any further, though, a form raced through the doors and was at his side faster than he could blink. Aron knew who it was without even looking, and he smiled.

"Good morning, Yoru."

She knew just by his reiatsu that he was almost fully healed, so she leaned over and gave him a fierce hug.

"Good morning to you, too," she said, happy that he was recovering swiftly. Pulling away, she looked at the fresh bandage covering where his left eye had once been and sighed. Saika saw the look on her face and frowned.

"What are you so upset about? I can still see, you know."

"I know," she said, "it just hurts to see you all beat up like this."

"Beat up? I'm not beat up at all. I'm fine! Right, Byakuya?" he called out, and Kuchiki stirred on his bed.

"Yes, he's fine," the Captain grumbled. "But he won't be if he wakes me up again."

Saika looked over at his friend warily.

"Someone's not a morning person," he said, and Yoruichi smiled.

The two of them sat and chatted until breakfast came, and while Saika was eating Yoruichi told him about Urahara's idea for a _shikai_ accelerator. His eye widened slightly and he smirked.

"Next time you see Urahara, tell him I know two people who would be more than happy to participate in the trial studies."

"Really? Who?"

Aron's smirk widened.

"Grimmjow and Ulquiorra."

Yoruichi raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"What? They don't have zanpakuto…"

"Correction, kitten," Saika cut in, "they _didn't_ have zanpakuto. Not before yesterday, anyway. Now they do, or at least they will very shortly."

"How? It's impossible for a Hollow to have a zanpakuto, Saika. They don't have whole souls."

"Those two are no longer Hollows, Yoruichi. They might have a fragment of that energy left in them, but it has been subjugated by a greater power, the demonic reiatsu that has been dormant within them since they first appeared before me in Hell. On top of that, they will be able to manifest true zanpakuto now because they have discovered something they had lost as Hollows. They know what it is to love another being, and no Hollow, be it Gillian or Arrancar, can say the same. They have souls, Yoruichi."

"I can't believe that," the Shihion princess said, and Aron smiled.

"It's understandable if you're skeptical. Just give it a few minutes, and when they get here I'm sure you'll see what I'm talking about."

Yoruichi knew there was no way Saika was being serious, but she didn't have anywhere to be today, so she nodded in acquiescence. After all, if she was going to kill a day she might as well do it with Saika.

* * *

Ulquiorra opened his eyes slowly and saw that the bed was empty.

The first impulse that surged through him was a foreign one: fear. Sitting up, he quickly scanned the room and found no one else there. Schiffer was about to move one step closer to panic when he smelled something cooking in the other room, and once he wiped the haze from his mind he could sense Neliel's reiatsu in there as well. Getting himself under control and adding a mental smack across the face for good measure, Ulquiorra got up and padded into the adjoining room. As he had thought, Nel was standing over a dish of raw meat, cooking it through with spirit energy. The former fourth Espada was about to say something when he realized that there was nothing crowning Neliel's head anymore.

"Neliel… your mask, it's…"

The green-haired woman turned at the sound of his voice and gave Ulquiorra a bright smile.

"Yeah, I got rid of it," she said. "Figured I wouldn't need it anymore, after what you told me last night."

It took Ulquiorra's foggy brain a moment to process everything implicit in that phrase, but once he did his eyes shot wide open and his mouth slacked slightly in abject horror.

"You… you _heard_ me?"

Nel's smile only got wider as she saw the look on Ulquiorra's face.

"Yup."

Part of Ulquiorra wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment right then and there, but another part of him felt so free it could have floated off of the ground. Seeing how torn he was, Neliel decided to take matters into her own hands and flash-stepped to right in front of him, pushing Ulquiorra against the wall and kissing him with enough force to rattle his teeth. Not one to be easily dominated, Schiffer pushed back and turned, forcing her against the wall instead and pinning her arms above her head with one hand. Nel had slightly different tastes from those of her partner, and her gray-hazel eyes were pulsing with a charged mix of emotions as she could only watch Ulquiorra size her up like the steak that was sizzling on the counter. She had told Ichigo once that she was a masochist, but it was more complex than that. She had always been in control of her emotions, of herself, and the chance to let that control completely slip into the hands of another where intimacy was concerned was exhilarating in a way that left her dazed. Schiffer responded to her state instinctively and lunged, torrents of pent-up emotion rushing from him as he embraced her. Breaking the kiss for a single, heated moment, he put his mouth next to her ear and whispered.

"Say it."

"I love you," she said, with as much emotion as she could muster. Ulquiorra was still for a few seconds, and Neliel was worried until she heard him speak and her blood sang in her veins.

"That wasn't good enough, Neliel," he said in a delicate, yet strong voice,

"I think I'll just have to make you shout it."

Nel's eyes went wide and she almost fainted from the rush his mere suggestion sent coursing through her. Before she could even blink she was on her back on the mattress, looking up at Ulquiorra. He had an expression on his face she had never seen before, but she didn't have time to puzzle it out as he closed the distance between them with a lunge. For the rest of the afternoon, all she saw were stars and the only word she knew was his first name.

* * *

Saika felt the spike in his Captain's reiatsu even at this distance, and he smiled.

"Well," he said with a tinge of laughter in his voice, "at least Grimmjow should show up soon."

As if on cue, the blue-haired warrior stepped through the door and glanced first at Yoruichi and then at Saika. Aron got the message, and turned to his loved one.

"Yoru, would you mind doing me a huge favor?"

"Name it."

"I have a feeling we're going to need a bottle of sake shortly… no," he said, noticing the look in Grimmjow's eyes, "you'd better make that two."

Yoruichi smiled as she saw the look plastered on Jaegerjaques' face, a mix of trepidation, satisfaction and weary resignation.

Oh, he was in love all right. Bad, too, by the looks of it.

"I'll get right on it," she said, flashing away and returning moments later with two bottles.

"I took these from your stash, Little Byakuya," she said with a wicked grin. "I hope you don't mind."

"I hate you," Byakuya said, which only served to widen Yoruichi's grin. Looking from Saika to Grimmjow, she could tell they needed some privacy and vanished, but not before Aron had flashed her a look that had 'I told you so' written all over it.

Once they were as alone as they were going to be in the ward and the curtains had been pulled, Saika turned his head to regard his Captain.

"So?"

Grimmjow took a substantial pull on one of the bottles and put it down with a thud, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I'm screwed," he admitted, and Saika laughed.

"In more ways than one, it seems. Where were you last night, a lion's den?"

Jaegerjaques noticed in the light just how many marks were present on his skin, and he smiled at the memories they evoked.

"Something like that," he said, but then his face became grim again.

"Seriously, this is just sad. I have no idea what to do, boss."

Aron had to bite back a smile at the wreck his cocky Captain had been reduced to, at the hands of possibly the only woman who could have pulled it off.

"Have you considered just rolling with it, Grimmjow?"

The blue-haired warrior raised both eyebrows at that, and he took another liberal swig of the potent sake.

"Are you serious? I feel like the world's biggest bitch."

Saika felt a fleeting pang of guilt at turning the screws on Jaegerjaques like this, but the devil on his shoulder quickly swept that away.

"Explain," Aron prodded, waiting for the gates to open. And open they did.

"I can't get her out of my head, boss," he began, the sake clearly sinking in. "And even if I could, I'm not sure I'd want to at this point. And any time she asks me to do something, I'm fucking bending over backwards, even if it's not an order. Did I lose my pair overnight or something?"

Saika smiled.

"No, my friend," he explained as he raised his glass, "you're just in love. Here's to your life never being the same again, and you not wanting it any other way."

"Amen to that," Grimmjow affirmed, clinking bottles before emptying his with a single, fluid motion.

As soon as the blue-haired warrior set down the near-empty bottle, Saika could see the buildup of sake finally hit Jaegerjaques like a brick of fried gold. An almost eerily happy grin settled in on his face, and his pupils widened slightly. Grimmjow was drunk, content with life, and in love.

Aron paused to wonder if Hell had frozen over, but before he could finish his train of thought Soi Fon pulled back the curtain facing the door, an exasperated look on her face.

"There you are," she huffed. "I've been looking all over for… are you drunk?"

"Maybe…?" The former sixth Espada answered, his buzz beginning to run for cover under the Second Division Captain's increasingly angry gaze. Grimmjow was spared further interrogation when Soi Fon turned her black gaze on Saika, who was smiling like a kid who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar and didn't give a damn.

"What did you do to my Lieutenant, Aron?"

The orange-eyed prince just grinned knowingly.

"Nothing he hadn't already done to himself, Captain. I just… nudged it to the surface, you could say."

Soi Fon held his gaze for a few more seconds until she was sure she wouldn't get anything else out of him. Grabbing Grimmjow by the shoulder and frowning, she pulled the blue-haired and now-sober warrior to his feet.

"Come on," she growled, but there was something in her voice Jaegerjaques couldn't quite figure out, "we need to talk."

Grimmjow turned to look at Saika as he was being dragged to the door and glared daggers at him. When he spoke, it was in the demonic tongue to keep Soi Fon from understanding him.

"If this puts me in the dog house for even one night, I'm going to kill you."

Aron had recognized the change in Soi Fon's voice that had eluded Grimmjow, and he smirked.

"Don't worry, my friend," he said, "it won't."

A few moments after he had been left alone, Saika saw his curtains pulled back again to reveal a slyly-grinning Shihoin princess.

"How do you feel, Sai?"

"Why do you ask?" Aron replied, his heart beating faster at the heated gleam in her eyes.

"Because I have an agreement I need to fulfill with you," she said in a voice that could have melted steel, "but I don't want to risk re-opening your wounds while I do it."

Saika's reiatsu spiked, the pressure increase staunching his wounds completely.

"I feel excellent," he spoke, struggling to keep his pulse even and failing. Yoruichi smiled like the cat she was, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Good to hear that, soldier," she purred, and the two of them vanished.

* * *

As soon as they were in Soi Fon's private offices, the Captain threw her Lieutenant down on the cot in the corner and straddled his waist, pinning him.

"What's gotten into you?" Grimmjow asked, surprised but not at all minding this turn of events. Soi Fon clamped her hand down over his mouth to shut him up and then spoke, her voice much less edgy than normal.

"I heard your conversation with Aron, Grimmjow," she told him. "All of it."

Jaegerjaques' eyes widened as he prayed for the bed to come to life and swallow him whole, but his fantasy ended abruptly when Soi Fon asked him a question.

"I just want to know one thing," she said. "Did you mean it?"

She took her hand off to let him answer, and Grimmjow looked up at the person above him with a mix of respect, competitiveness and affection.

"Every word," he said seriously, implying the words that went unspoken. Soi Fon's eyes lit up like bonfires and she almost crushed him with the force of her embrace, staying that way for a long, blissful breath before breaking apart.

"That's good to hear," she replied, smiling. "But if I ever see you acting like such a softie again, I'm stripping you of your rank. Is that clear?"

Now it was Grimmjow's eyes that blazed, and he used his strength and reflexes to catch Soi Fon off guard and flip her over, gaining the dominant position.

"Yes, Sir," he all but growled, and Soi Fon reached up, grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down.

It was a long afternoon.

* * *

Yamamoto tapped his staff on the ground, breaking the tense silence in the room.

"Thank you for responding so promptly to my summons on such short notice, Rukia."

"You have no need to thank me, Captain-Commander Yamamoto, sir."

The edges of the old man's lips quirked up into a small smile.

"Very well. You are probably wondering why it is that I have called you here, Rukia. The fact of the matter is that Captain Ukitake will not be able to reclaim his position until he is fully recovered and his Soul Chain has repaired itself, which may take some time. We are already short on Captains as it stands, and we cannot risk losing another at a time like this.

"Rukia Kuchiki," he said in a voice that rang like thunder, "I have spoken with the other Captains who are currently healthy, and we have decided that you are more than qualified to hold the rank of Captain, should you choose to accept the offer. Do you wish to accept the Captaincy of the Thirteenth Division?"

Rukia could hardly believe her ears. On the one hand, she felt awful that she was being offered the position solely on the basis that Captain Ukitake was laid up, but at the same time she was thrilled that the other Captains thought she could handle the job. Finally, she was being given the respect she had fought so hard to earn. But there was something that still nagged at the back of her mind.

"What about Kiyone and Sentaro?" she asked, and Yamamoto inclined his head slightly.

"I have spoken with them as well regarding this matter, and they both whole-heartedly endorsed your promotion."

Rukia's heart swelled even more at those words, and she smiled.

"Then yes," she said as calmly as she could, "I accept."

Yamamoto's eyed opened, and a smile was flickering in them as clear as day.

"It gladdens me to hear that, Captain Kuchiki," he said warmly, procuring her _haori_ and holding it out to her.

"I wish you the best of luck."

Rukia accepted the garb like a holy vestment, putting it on gingerly and sighing as it settled over her shoulders. Her reverie was interrupted, however, by the appearance of Captain Unohana.

"Captain Kuchiki," she said, smiling, "Captain Kuchiki has requested your presence in the recovery ward."

Rukia looked over at the Captain-Commander, and he nodded. The violet-eyed Soul Reaper Captain vanished, heading for Fourth Division as fast as she could. When she arrived, Rukia walked calmly over to her brother's side.

"You called, Nii-sama?"

Byakuya looked up at Rukia and gave a small smile, saying words that the young Kuchiki had longed to hear since she had been adopted into his clan.

"I'm proud of you, Captain Rukia Kuchiki."

She thought her heart might burst in that moment, but it held strong and Rukia smiled brightly at her brother.

"Thank you, Nii-sama," she said, "for everything."

Byakuya just closed his eyes, his smile remaining as he went back to sleep. Rukia made to leave, but another voice called out to her.

"Those robes suit you, Captain," it said. "Wear them with pride."

Rukia turned to see Captain Ukitake smiling at her, propped up into a sitting position against the wall.

"Thank you, Captain Ukitake," she said, bowing. "I trust you will make a speedy recovery, and these robes will return to you."

"Perhaps," Jushiro replied, "but until then, you are the Captain of the Thirteenth Division, Rukia, and I expect you to act like it."

She smiled, nodding.

"You can count on me, Sir."

"Glad to hear it," Ukitake said. "Now get out of here, Captain; I'm sure you have plenty of paperwork to do," he finished, his smile gaining a sly edge as Rukia's shoulders sank with the realization that being a Captain meant dealing with _all_ of the responsibility, both exciting and mundane.

"Of course," she said much less enthusiastically, flash-stepping away. Ukitake started laughing as soon as she was out of earshot, and Saika looked over at him.

"Now _that_ was cruel, pops," he said, a smile crossing his face as well.

"She should've known that's what she was getting into, Saika," Jushiro said. "She has no one to blame for the paperwork but herself."

Aron was about to say something when a loud groan was heard and they looked over to see Kenpachi Zaraki stirring, his huge grin still on his face.

"What's got you so chipper, Tinkerbell?" Saika asked, and Zaraki looked over at his rival, his grin turning subtly murderous.

"You'd better watch out, mongrel," he said,

"I know my zanpakuto's name now."

The Eleventh Division Captain laughed as a look of terror crossed Aron's face. If Zaraki knew the name of his zanpakuto, that meant that the discord between the two of them was gone and his power would no longer be diminished. Saika didn't know how much stronger that would make Kenpachi, but he had no desire to find out any time in this life, or the next one.

"Ichigo is going down the next time we fight," the spiky-haired Captain said. "I swear, next time we cross blades, I'm gonna kick his ass."

* * *

Ichigo looked at the white mountain in front of him and sighed

"Do I really have to help you with all of this paperwork, Rukia?"

"Yes, Ichigo, you really do. There's no way I can get this all done by tonight alone."

"What about those two Lieutenants of yours? Isn't this their job?"

"Technically, yeah," Rukia said as a wicked smile spread across her face, "but I thought I'd order you to help me, seeing as how you're below me in rank and all."

Ichigo scowled.

"You're an evil, evil midget, Rukia Kuchiki," he said, and she gave an exaggerated pout.

"Oh, don't say that, Ichigo," she said as she walked closer and closer to the orange-haired Soul Reaper, eventually getting close enough to lean her mouth right next to his ear, wisps of hot breath making him shiver.

"By the time we're done, we should have the office all to ourselves," she whispered in a velvety tone that almost made Kurosaki faint right then and there.

"Paperwork it is, then," he rasped out, and Rukia smiled.

Talk about a win-win situation.

* * *

The two fighters exchanged another round of blows and broke apart, both bent over slightly to catch their breath.

"You're getting faster, Kurosaki," Ichimaru said, "and stronger. That's good, but doing this by hand is taking too long."

Walking over to where he had put his zanpakuto, Gin drew Shinso from its sheath and held it with the blade down, parallel to his body. The light glinting off of the blade in the midday sun was bright enough to blind Karin, but that potential distraction wasn't nearly as scary as the killing intent that seemed to reach out from the zanpakuto and wrap around her neck. Karin felt beat up and exhausted; she hadn't slept at all last night, and her sensei had pushed her relentlessly.

"Shoot to kill, Shinso."

Karin was yanked back to reality by the command, and she sidestepped just in time to dodge the blade as it screamed towards her and buried its tip in the dirt.

"Never lose your focus, especially not when your opponent is holding a sharp object," Ichimaru said, his hard eyes glinting like rubies as he withdrew Shinso. Karin wanted nothing more than to draw her zanpakuto and carve her sensei's chest open, and she let the urge to kill spread to the tip of every limb in her body.

"I think she's finally getting it, buddy," Gin said to his zanpakuto, and Shinso pulsed in eagerness.

Karin closed her eyes and focused on her desire to fight, but when she opened them she found that she had changed locations and was now right next to the rock her nameless zanpakuto was leaning against.

"What the…?" she asked, her ferocity overcome for the moment by her curiosity.

"Well, that's one way to learn flash steps," the silver-haired Soul Reaper said, amused. "Once I'm done slashing you up, maybe if you can still move we can work on your technique."

His taunts had the desired effect on Karin, and ripped her zanpakuto out of its sheath before closing her eyes and thinking of nothing but carving that smirk off of her teacher's face. When she opened her eyes, she was pleasantly surprised to see that she was standing right in front of her sensei, her sword only inches from his neck.

"My, my," Gin said, not flinching in the slightest as his eyes regarded Karin with something approaching awe, "you really are a Kurosaki. Still," he appended, "power is nothing without control."

Shinso moved like a blur, batting Karin's blade aside and taking up its own place next to her throat.

"Never hesitate to strike a killing blow if given the chance," he said, slashing downwards with Shinso. Karin managed to throw herself backwards and minimized the depth of the cut, but it was still a slash across her abdomen and it hurt like hell.

"Hesitate, and I will strike. Rest assured, young Karin; the next time I strike, I will strike to kill. If you want to survive, I suggest you start talking to your zanpakuto."

As Karin fended off the next strike, and then the next and the next, her adrenaline began to give way to fear and she realized that she might very well die.

_Does he expect me to talk to my zanpakuto while I'm fighting? That's not possible!_

'How do you know it's impossible if you've never tried, moron?'

The voice of her zanpakuto cut through Karin like a knife, but she brushed aside the insult and focused on the positive. She could talk to her zanpakuto and fight at the same time, which increased her odds of living immensely. Now, if she could just figure out its name…

'I could scream my name at you until I go dumb and unless you're ready to hear it the word will fall on deaf ears, Karin. By the way, I'm a 'she', thank you very much; and since I'd rather not die with you, here's a little hint: stop being such a weakling and _fight back_.'

Karin took a deep breath and held the next block she made longer than normal, gazing into her teacher's blood-red eyes that were now gleaming with what could only be described as a grin.

"Have you finally decided to start fighting back, Karin?" he asked, his tone just mocking enough to piss her off.

"Damn straight, sensei," she growled, pushing hard against Shinso and lashing out with her zanpakuto as soon as the block relaxed. Gin deflected the blow, but Karin struck again and again and again. Instead of being blinded by rage, she felt a strange calm seep into her soul. Her movements became more controlled, but remained fluid, and her teacher's sword seemed to slow, and become completely predictable. Focusing herself and diving deep into her soul, Karin found that she didn't even need to ask for her zanpakuto's name: in that instant, it was as clear to her as her own name was. Emerging from the depths just in time to see the tiniest sliver of an opening appear in her teacher's stance, Karin struck and called out her zanpakuto.

"Flash, Raitori!"

The wakizashi in her hands flared with crackling, golden energy for a moment, and when it was visible again Karin found herself looking at a longer, double-edged straight sword resembling a Chinese _jian_. It was a burnished golden color, with streaks of yellow decorating the flat of the blade like thin bolts of lighting.

"Thunderbird, huh?" Gin said, having jumped back from the force of the _shikai_. "Not bad, Kurosaki. Not bad at all. Well, you managed to cut me up pretty good," he continued, motioning with one hand to a gash that ran straight down his chest, "so I'd say this lesson is finished."

Karin relaxed, returning Raitori to its normal state.

"So, what happens now, sensei?"

Ichimaru smiled, his eyes narrowing but not closing.

"It's time to find out what that sword of yours can do. We're going on a field trip to District 80."

* * *

Ulquiorra found to his amazement that he still had plenty of energy left in him after their... activity, while Neliel was lying next to him practically comatose with a look of contentment on her face that made Schiffer smile despite himself. There was just something about her that broke down all of his barriers, and he wasn't entirely opposed to that feeling. Nevertheless, there was an itch at the core of his soul that he knew only feeling out his new powers would scratch. They were definitely different from Hollow powers, closer to the Soul Reaper abilities he had possessed as an arrancar, but different enough even from those powers to raise his curiosity. And if there was one thing an analytical being like Ulquiorra hated, it was being curious. He needed to understand this new power, and he needed to do it now in case some new threat appeared.

That, and he just felt weird without a sword.

Tapping into the molten orange pool that resided at the core of his newborn soul, Schiffer let instinct guide him as he slowly learned how to use whatever this version of _sonido_ was. Soon enough he was competent with it, and shortly thereafter found himself in the nearest dojo. What he hadn't noticed was the sign demarcating it as the dojo of the Second Division.

"I see you want to fight some, too, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow's smooth growl floated over from across the room.

"If you don't mind getting completely ruined, I'd be more than happy to kick your ass. Maybe by the end of it, I'll have a sword at my hip again."

Ulquiorra turned to face his longtime rival and his eyes gleamed with a barely restrained killer intent that made Jaegerjaques' own eyes widen in surprise at the display of emotion. Taking one of his hands out of his pocket, Schiffer gestured for Grimmjow to make the first move. Grinning with bloodlust, the blue-haired warrior lunged.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yeah, so this chapter was a bit slower and smaller, but it had to be; this was mostly a set-up chapter, with some fluff and comedy (I hope it was funny at points, anyway) thrown in. Hope you enjoyed it, and _**Please Review**_ if you would be so kind; it means a ton. In addition, I hope the character development made up for the lack of brawls; we'll get some more of that next chapter as Karin and Ichimaru take a long, dark walk through District 80. The next chapter shouldn't be too long in coming, I hope, but we'll see.

See you next time!


	14. Kenpachi

**Disclaimer: **The usual; don't own Bleach, but I own my OCs. Don't use 'em without asking me first.

**Author's Note IMPORTANT: **We finally reach the point in this chapter that meets up with the very first scene of the story. Problem is, some things have changed since I wrote that, so a few of the elements might be different. The most important change is that it hasn't been three months in story time since the first chapter; that was sort of an arbitrary amount of time I put in there. The second change is that the person attacking Ichigo is no longer fighting with a sword. OK, that's out of the way. Sorry 'bout that; now let's get on with the show.

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 14:** Kenpachi

* * *

The next morning brought a gray dawn, and Saika could feel a sense of foreboding in the air so thick it hung like a fog. Looking over, he saw that both Zaraki and Byakuya's beds were empty, which was a good sign. Getting up with a groan, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood, wincing as his muscles protested with as much force as they could. He was still sore from his time with Yoruichi the day before, but the orange-eyed prince forced the discomfort from his mind.

When he did that, though, Saika found that there was a doubt wriggling in the back of his mind like a worm that he had ignored until now. With nothing else clouding his thoughts it surged up at him like a wave, and his eyes widened slightly. Flashing away, Aron went to the one place he knew he could go to be alone and think, as the sun began its arduous climb through the haze.

Yoruichi Shihoin wasn't used to feeling lethargic when she woke up in the mornings, but the combination of fatigue from yesterday's activity and the odd sensation that it was going to be a bad day made her want to just cocoon under her sheets and go back to sleep. She was shocked out of her complacency, however, when she felt Saika's reiatsu not that far off. It was unusually turbulent, and the golden-eyed princess knew she wasn't going to be getting any sleep as long as his presence was nagging at her.

"Damn it…" she grumbled, forcing herself away from the comforting warmth and into the chill breeze of the dawn. Throwing on her usual clothes, Yoruichi blinked away to join her former Lieutenant.

Saika felt her reiatsu behind him and sighed.

"I thought I made it obvious I wanted to be alone," he said, and Yoruichi walked across the roof tiles over to him before taking a seat beside her former Lieutenant and smiling.

"We both know that if you really wanted to be alone, Saika," she said, "the last place you would have come was here."

Aron sighed, realizing how predictable he'd been.

"Fair enough."

"So," Yourichi rejoined, "what brings you up here so early?"

"Something I can't get out of my head," he replied. "So far, we've fought and defeated Death, War and Pestilence… but where was Famine?"

"Good question," the Shihoin princess said, her eyes narrowing as she followed Saika's gaze out into the horizon.

"If I may speak, sir," a voice said from just out of Yoruichi's peripheral vision, "I may be able to provide you with an answer."

The golden-eyed woman was on her feet and facing the new arrival in an instant, but Saika flashed upright and put a hand on her shoulder to restrain her. Not turning his gaze from the horizon, he spoke.

"You sure took your time, Balthazar."

The figure bent down on one knee, his head bowed.

"Forgive me, my Lord. While under Callos' watch, there was only so much I could do."

Aron chuckled, turning to face his adjutant.

"I was joking, Balthazar. Jesus, people need to stop thinking I'm Dracula or something; I'm not about to impale you because it took you two days to break into the Seireitei. Speaking of which, how the hell did you get over the wall?"

Balthazar flashed a rare, toothy smile.

"I jumped it, and melted through the barrier."

Saika returned the expression.

"Nice."

Yoruichi could only watch the odd exchange with confusion, wondering just what was going on.

"Sai, who the hell is this?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, and Saika turned to face her.

"This is Balthazar, my chief messenger. Callos took him into his command after I fled Hell, but now that my brother is dead, he is released from that obligation."

"I see," Yoruichi said, keeping a wary eye trained on the strange demon anyway.

"I take it you bring news, Balthazar?" Saika asked, and his messenger nodded.

"Of course. As you realized, Famine was not among the Horsemen who assaulted the Gates of the Seireitei. That was because Callos sent him on a separate mission, to the Human World."

Both Yoruichi's eyes and Saika's eye snapped open at that, coming to the same realization simultaneously. Unleashing a Horseman on Soul Reapers was bad enough, but to let someone like Famine run rampant in a world full of defenseless, corruptible souls would lead to nothing short of a catastrophe.

"Yoruichi, tell the Captain-Commander to call a Captain's meeting right away," Aron said urgently, and the Shihoin princess nodded sharply before flashing away. Sighing, the orange-eyed prince turned to his adjutant.

"Balthazar, I need you to go back to Hell and gather information. Most importantly, figure out whom my father is going to appoint as leader of the invasion now that Callos is dead."

The demon rose and bowed.

"At once, my Lord," he said, melting away.

Saika let out a thunderous curse as he wondered why peace was doomed to always be so fragile, especially when the happiness it brought with it was so calming and tranquil. Shutting the good memories out from his mind, Aron flashed away to join the swiftly gathering mass of Captains congregating in the First Division Headquarters.

* * *

Ichigo hoped that Rukia wouldn't be too angry with him for leaving her to wake up by herself, but this was something he had to do alone. All it took was a few quick flash-steps before he was at the Gate, and the looming figure of Jidanbo looked down at him with a gigantic smile.

"Why, hello Ichigo," he greeted. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to get outside of the walls for a bit, my friend," Kurosaki replied. "Do you think you could open the Gate for me?"

Jidanbo let out a chuckle that rattled Ichigo's ribs.

"Of course. It'll just be a moment."

Ichigo moved through the gap as soon as it was tall enough, waving his thanks to the gigantic guard as the iron slab closed behind him. Scanning his surroundings for a good perch, Ichigo picked a smooth, broken pillar of rock and sat down cross-legged, pulling on his Vizard mask and closing his eyes as his reiatsu skyrocketed. But the orange-haired Soul Reaper wasn't here to fight, and soon enough a swarm of Spirit Ribbons sprouted around him like a forest.

Ichigo was here to look for someone. His sister, to be specific. He had already failed her once, and he was damned if he was going to let her wander the blasted wasteland of Rukongai for all eternity. He was going to find Karin, bring her to the Seireitei, and start his penitence by getting his sister enrolled in the Soul Reaper Academy. Giving her a future here was the least he could do to atone for robbing her of the future she should have had in the Human World.

Kurosaki filtered through the swarm of Ribbons at an almost blinding speed, feeling for the elusive red one that signified Soul Reaper potential, but even after five draining minutes of nonstop searching he'd come up empty. His heart skipped a beat as Ichigo realized that this meant Karin was deep in the high-number Districts, somewhere between 75 and 80. Fear clawed at his insides, but he controlled himself and remembered just how tough Karin had been as a human; if she had even a fraction of the spiritual energy Ichigo did, she'd be more than capable of taking care of herself. She had believed in him, after all, and it was only fair that he return the favor.

Another round of searching still yielded nothing, and the fact that he was in his transformed state only increased Ichigo's frustration. He was about to fire a _cero_ into a nearby building when he felt a shrouded presence behind him, recognizing it as a runner from the Second Division.

"What?" he barked out, a little harsher than he had intended to. To his credit, the only physical hint the messenger gave to his fear was a tightly controlled flinch.

"A Captain's meeting has been called, and your presence is requested, sir."

Ichigo growled, but nodded all the same, pulled his mask off and eased out of his _bankai_. The runner flashed away and Kurosaki followed suit, forcing his anger down into the pit of his stomach for the moment. As soon as he had a chance, he was going to find his sister. If he had to rip the edge of Rukongai to the ground to do it, then so be it.

* * *

The orange-haired Soul Reaper pushed the doors open and walked through, his eyes focused on Yamamoto as he bowed.

"You are late, Ichigo Kurosaki," the old man rumbled, but Ichigo shrugged it off.

"I was attending to a personal matter, sir, and only just received your summons. Forgive my impertinence," he finished, walking over to stand by Rukia.

"Since when were you so polite?" she asked in a whisper, and Ichigo shot her a half glare.

"I can be civil if I want to, short-stack."

Rukia smirked.

"That's _Captain_ short-stack to you, idiot."

Kurosaki was about to reply, but Yamamoto's powerful voice rumbled through the room and demanded attention.

"You have been called here today to be made aware of a new threat that has emerged to threaten the tenuous balance we strive to protect. Saika Aron, please make your findings known to us."

Aron, who had replaced the cloth around his eye with a eye patch, stepped forward.

"Earlier today, I received a report from a trusted source that the Fourth Horseman, Famine, was let loose upon the Human World by my brother shortly before the assault on Seireitei. He is currently accompanied by three legions, and for all we know is rampaging unchecked."

"This cannot stand," the Captain-Commander rejoined as Saika stepped back, pounding his cane against the floor for emphasis.

"I am hereby ordering that a special detachment be sent to the Human World to quarantine and annihilate this threat. Captain Rukia Kuchiki, Lieutenant Renji Abarai and Ichigo Kurosaki will comprise this detachment; I expect you to be in the Human World by this afternoon."

Rukia nodded solemnly, but Ichigo looked like he had just swallowed a bunch of habenero chili peppers.

"With all due respect, sir," he said quietly but firmly, "I ask that you allow me to remain here in Soul Society."

"Ridiculous," Yamamoto snapped back, ignoring the look of barely-contained rage that crept over Ichigo's face.

"Whatever personal matter you have to attend to here, it pales in comparison to the stability of potentially the entire Human World. You are one of our strongest warriors, and your familiarity with the workings of the Human World would prove invaluable on this mission. I deny you permission to remain here while a battle rages elsewhere, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Those who could see Ichigo's face in that moment reached instinctively for their zanpakuto, the look of fury on his face making a hurricane look like a passing drizzle in comparison. It lasted but a moment, though, and the orange-haired Soul Reaper bit back his wrath and bowed.

"Very well," he said, his voice unusually hollow. The meeting was adjourned and Rukia went off to grab Renji, but not before pulling Ichigo aside.

"What's wrong, Ichigo?"

"Nothing," he shot back, trying to wrest his arm from her grip. Rukia, however, was having none of that and held firm.

"Damn it, Ichigo," she growled, the tone of her voice catching Kurosaki off guard, "tell me what's bothering you. I have the right to know that much, don't I? You don't have to bawl your heart out to me or anything, but after last night I assumed you trusted me enough to let me past your fucking armor!"

Ichigo's eyes widened at Rukia's curse—she _never_ cursed—and then a wave of shame swept over him and drowned his anger as he realized she was right. The night before they had shared something amazing, and for once in his life Ichigo had felt completely open and free, utterly vulnerable… and that had terrified him. So he had stepped back into his shell, his final line of defense that was now rapidly cracking in the face of his loved one's rebuke. Sighing, he let the barrier slough off of him once and for all and stood before Rukia not as Ichigo Kurosaki, stoic warrior and Soul Reaper, but as Ichigo Kurosaki, the teenaged boy who felt the weight of insecurity and inadequacy, who knew failure and fear and loneliness.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, pulling her into a strong embrace and just holding her there.

"You're right," he continued. "I do trust you, I was just… afraid, afraid of being so exposed. I promise you, from here on out, no more secrets."

Rukia almost sighed as she felt his warmth encompass her, protecting, comforting and sincere.

"Thank you," she said, pulling away from him and staring deeply into those brown eyes she knew so well. "Now tell me what's making you so morose, carrot-top."

Ichigo gave a weak smile at the nickname, but it faded as quickly as it had come.

"I was trying to find Karin this morning," he explained, "and I couldn't. I looked through every soul from here to District 74, and I came up with nothing. She's in the worst part of Rukongai, Rukia, and I can't find her; I can't protect her. What if…?"

He left the question unspoken, but Rukia knew what he was thinking and her eyes softened.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Ichigo," she said. "I'll admit that I don't know Karin that well, but I know she's strong-willed and won't go down without a fight. Besides," she added with a smile, "if ludicrously strong spiritual energy runs in your family, those thugs in the upper Districts won't stand a chance."

Ichigo smiled, giving Rukia a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Thanks, midget; I needed that."

The young Kuchiki was about to respond to the epithet, but chose to brush it off and flashed away, seeking out Renji.

Byakuya had observed the exchange between Kurosaki and his sister from the shadows, and his hand gripped around Senbonsakura so tightly his knuckles turned white. It did not escape his sharp eyes how relaxed his sibling had been, and he could tell just from the way she carried herself, no longer the guarded, reticent girl she had been the day before, but now a confident, proud young woman, that something big had occurred between her and the orange-haired peasant the night before.

Ichigo was about to return to his room and get ready when he felt a coil of tiny, shimmering blades wrap around him like a python, the end of the coil resting pointedly against his jugular. Far from being intimidated, he smirked.

"Yeah, Byakuya?" he said, wishing he could have seen the look on the noble's face when he had kissed Rukia.

"Remember what I told you before, Ichigo Kurosaki," he said with an even steelier voice than normal, "and know that if I was not completely convinced that what happened between the two of you was Rukia's desire as well, you would already be dead."

"I would expect nothing less," Ichigo answered, his voice serious. "And for the record, it was _entirely_ her idea," he appended.

"It does not surprise me in the least that someone such as you would lack the strength to initiate such an act, Ichigo Kurosaki," Byakuya said with a hint of a smile in his voice, retracting Senbonsakura. Ichigo turned to face him and frowned, but then his look gave way to a sly grin.

"I didn't finish," he said. "The _first time_ was entirely her idea."

Enjoying the look on Byakuya's face immensely, Ichigo tallied up another point for Team Kurosaki on his mental scoreboard.

"See you around… dad," he said, not waiting to see Byakuya's reaction to his parting shot. The elder Kuchiki stood frozen in shock for a moment, but then he did something Ichigo would never have expected.

He smiled.

"In the end," he said to himself, "I guess it could not be helped. Keep her happy, Ichigo Kurosaki, and you have my blessing."

Byakuya's smile faded as he thought of having Isshin Kurosaki as his father-in-law, though; the man had been eccentric enough as a Captain, and Kuchiki shuddered to think what fatherhood had done to him.

* * *

"Now, this is interesting," Ichimaru said, stopping his journey down the dirt road. Karin stopped as well, raising an eyebrow.

"What's up, sensei?"

"This cloak I'm wearing blocks my reiatsu from being sensed by others," he explained, "but I can't feel yours at all, and as far as I can tell you're doing nothing to suppress it consciously. Is this one of your zanpakuto's abilities, Kurosaki?"

'He's a sharp one,' Raitori's voice spoke up in Karin's head. 'Years of emotional repression rubbed off on me, you know. No one'll be able to sense us unless you want them to, kid.'

"It sounds like it is, sensei," the young Kurosaki replied, a little upset that she didn't even know that power that rested within her own soul.

"That's quite a useful talent to have, Karin," Gin said, resuming his former pace along the road as the dark-eyed Kurosaki hastened to follow him. The sun was finally beginning to peek over the horizon and illuminate the gray sky, and Karin felt like she was about to faint. Needing something to keep her awake, she spoke to her teacher.

"So, what's your story anyway, sensei?" she asked, more than a little intrigued by the enigmatic, silver-haired man who had taught her so much but revealed so little about his reasons for doing so.

"It's complicated," Ichimaru said at length, "and besides, you'll find out soon enough. Once we're done awakening your powers, we're going to go right to the heart of Soul Society, the Seireitei."

"Is that where my brother is?" Karin asked, her previous curiosity about her teacher suffocated by the desire to see her brother again.

"Most likely," Ichimaru said, about to continue when the rooftops of District 80's shanties came into view.

"Get your zanpakuto ready," he cautioned. "Things are about to get dicey."

The 80th District of Rukongai, Zaraki, had earned its reputation of being chaos incarnate. Crime and lawlessness were so pervasive that it took the most appalling offenses to even raise an eyebrow, and sympathy was non-existent. It was the district that never slept, and not in a good way, either.

Almost immediately Karin saw a young woman getting mugged, and moved to dash to her aid. She was stopped cold, however, by Ichimaru's hand gripping her shoulder with far more strength than his thin frame suggested he possessed.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. "That girl needs my help!"

"Think about what you are doing, Karin," Gin said, his voice completely calm. "If you go to help her, the thugs assaulting her will turn on you. If you really want to help her, you must be prepared to kill them."

Karin's stomach plummeted down to her toes as she realized what the purpose of this 'field trip' had been: to force her to hone her killer instinct. Her teacher was trying to prod her into the final step of truly becoming a warrior, and as much as she was repulsed by the idea of taking a life, Karin was finding it hard to restrain herself. When the thugs started clawing at the young woman's clothes, something inside the young Kurosaki's soul clicked into place and she drew her sword.

"Let me go," she growled, and Ichimaru obliged her with a smile.

Karin charged forward without uttering a warcry; she wanted to keep the element of surprise. There were three of them, big and nasty, but she could tell from the way they carried themselves that they were completely undisciplined.

_Disgusting._

"Flash, Raitori!"

The _jian_ crackled to life and instantly speared one of the attackers, killing him far too quickly. The warm blood on Karin's dirt-ridden kimono didn't bother her at all, and rage combined with indignation smoldered in her eyes as she rounded on the other two attackers. A shred of fear could be seen in their eyes, but they did not run. Karin didn't give them a chance to make the first move, crouching slightly and lunging forward with the grace of a dancer. Twisting her blade at the last moment, she wrenched the club out of one of the thug's hands and completed the strike, relieving him of his right hand. Whipping her sword back across her body and carving a slash into his chest, Karin looked on in satisfaction as her enemy crumpled to the ground, defeated. As she felt the presence looming behind her, though, Kurosaki realized bitterly that she had left herself wide open to getting flanked, and now she would pay the price.

'Give yourself more credit than that, Karin', Raitori said, her voice scathing. 'This punk's blood isn't worthy of decorating me, anyway. Now, repeat after me…'

Karin spun around to face her last opponent, blocking his mace's strike and calling out the true power of her zanpakuto.

"_Kuro Shiden!_"

A bolt of black lighting arced from her sword, lancing through the thug's body and turning it to ashes. A smile grew on Ichimaru's face; now, she was finally ready.

Karin helped the shaking woman to her feet, and she looked up at her savior with fear and awe.

"Are you a… Soul Reaper?" she asked, and Karin shook her head.

"No," she replied. "Not yet, anyway. Are you all right?"

The woman smiled.

"Yes, I am. I should be fine, at least for the morning," she replied, bitterness seeping through her relief. Zaraki was never peaceful, and if it wasn't today that tragedy struck it was probably going to be tomorrow.

Karin rooted around in the pockets of the dead prowlers, finding what she was looking for. Holding the pouches aloft with a grin, she tossed them to the woman.

"Use that to find a place to stay," the young Kurosaki suggested, "and if you know how to use one, I'd recommend buying a sword, or at least a dagger."

The woman nodded hastily in thanks, brushing herself off and sparing the corpses of her attackers one last hateful glance before she hurried off.

"Well, that sure was nice of you," Ichimaru said, stepping forward. "Most people would've kept that cash for themselves."

"I'm not most people," Karin snapped back, re-sheathing her zanpakuto after wiping the blood from the blade and resealing it. Her eyes fell upon the jacket one of the thugs was wearing, and her eyes widened slightly as she took in the surprisingly good-looking cloth, black as night with the character for 'demon' stitched on the back in red.

"That is a really nice jacket, though," she said, and soon her dirty, torn up kimono had been replaced by the infinitely more comfortable jacket.

"To the victor, the spoils," Gin said with a smile in his ruby eyes. "Shall we go?"

"Why not? What else is there to do, sensei?" Karin asked. "I'm officially a murderer; wasn't that the point of bringing me here? To make me into a killer?"

"Close, but not quite, Karin," Ichimaru replied, a smile on his face. This kid was much sharper than her brother; he'd give her that.

"This was supposed to rid you of your fear of death, and of taking the life of another. You have not become a murderer, Kurosaki. Rather, you have taken the final step towards becoming a warrior. A true warrior is at peace with death in all of its forms, and does not shy from battle, nor flinch when their blade is graced with blood."

"Poetic," Karin replied, "but I'm not interested in living and dying by the sword."

"Then why were you so quick to strike down those reprobates?"

"I wasn't trying to kill them, I was trying to save that woman."

Gin's smile widened.

"Call it whatever you like, Karin," he said, "but do not deny that in the heat of battle, the fate of that woman was the farthest thing from your mind. I saw you fight, and I saw the thrill of battle in your movements. You can lie to me until the sun goes down, Kurosaki," he finished, "but I wouldn't advise lying to yourself. Come on, we need to find somewhere to eat. I'm starving."

With that, Ichimaru turned and continued walking down the road, leaving Karin lost in thought. Part of her rebelled against the feeling racing through her, the high that had resulted from her victory, but the greater part of her reveled in it. She had crossed blades with another, and had lived to tell about it. Her strength had been challenged, and she had proven herself the stronger. She had fought, and she had won.

And it felt glorious.

Suppressing her turbulent emotions for the moment, Karin shook her head and ran after her teacher as flies began to circle the corpses of her fallen enemies.

* * *

Ishida felt his arm begin to tire as the strange creatures kept on coming and coming, with no signs of slowing down or stopping at all. It was like they didn't even feel pain, and the Quincy had never fought anything like them. They were truly demons, in every sense of the phrase.

Chad was faring little better than his friend, his shoulders beginning to ache under his armor despite himself. Blast after blast of blue energy ripped through ranks of the ravenous creatures, but it felt like for every one he incinerated, two more would rise to take its place.

Orihime had run off to Urahara's shop to gather some reinforcements, but she hadn't returned yet and part of Uryu feared the worst. Beating back his doubts, the Quincy turned his full attention back to the battle at hand. Orihime would be fine, he told himself; she had managed to survive Hueco Mundo, after all.

The archer saw a demon lunge for an oblivious bystander and sink its fangs into the man's neck, drawing all of the essence from his soul and leaving nothing but a dry husk. Uryu noticed that the demon grew slightly and its reiatsu increased, and he realized that it was going to be an even harder battle than he thought if he was going to have to keep an eye out for innocent bystanders. Looking over at his friend, the Quincy called out over the din of battle.

"Chad! Can you protect the non-combatants? It looks like these monsters draw their strength from absorbing souls!"

The giant teen just nodded and flashed a quick thumbs-up, turning his attention to a group of monsters that were creeping up stealthily on a pack of schoolchildren and annihilating them. The kids looked up at Chad with awe, but when he told them to go somewhere safe they scattered to the four winds. Ishida was glad that he didn't have to split his attention two ways, but the downside to that was that now he was the only person actively trying to stem the tide of monsters pressing down upon them. His hands were now bleeding, and he wasn't sure how long he could keep up the attack before he was too tired to fight…

Suddenly a trio of cyclones materialized out of thin air and tore through a huge chunk of the demons, and Uryu looked up in surprise. Standing on a nearby rooftop, backlit ethereally by the midday sun, was Senna. The former Memory Rosary looked down at the Quincy and flashed a brief smile.

"Hey, Ishida," she shouted. "Less staring, more shooting!"

The Quincy was galvanized back into action by her sharp words and the fact that he had been given reinforcements at the best possible time; soon his blue arrows flew fast and thick through the air once again. He wasn't about to be outdone by some pseudo-Soul Reaper, after all; not when his Quincy Pride was at stake. Eventually the tsunami of demons began to crest, and then slowly, agonizingly recede as the black wave was repulsed by a combination of blue spirit energy and crackling, viciously sharp tornadoes. Just when they thought the scales had tipped in their favor, though, the true enemy decided to show himself.

"Well, well, what have we here?" Famine crowed, dismounting his midnight-black steed and brandishing his spear.

"It looks like some children thought they could stop me. How laughable. Nonetheless, perhaps your souls will slake my hunger, if only for the moment. Prepare yourselves!"

The spear whirled through the air with a shrieking sound that put banshees to shame, swallowing up even the air around it in a mad grab for sustenance. When he was satisfied that enough energy had been gathered, the Horseman unleashed a blast of gray energy that nearly took Ishida's arm off.

"Slowing down already, Quincy?" Famine taunted. "I'm just getting started!"

The Horseman stuck out his palm, which began to glow with the same gray energy his spear had spewed forth. Instead of resulting in a blast, though, Uryu felt all of a sudden like his body as being devoured from the inside. And in a sense, that was exactly what was happening.

Only it wasn't his body, it was his soul.

"Yes, yes, you feel it; don't you?" Famine hissed. "That's what it feels like to have your very essence devoured while you still breathe. Feel the void spread within you, Quincy. Know my eternal hunger, and embrace your doom!"

Uryu was in the depths of an agony so intense it bordered on perverse ecstasy. His eyes were going blind, his mouth drier than blasted desert sands. All he knew was hunger, the need to replace the rapidly spreading blackness that was creeping over his soul. He felt it push past the final obstacles, and his limbs began to slacken as the world slipped into darkness…

But the end did not come. Rather, the world became suddenly sharp and clear again, life flowing back into his body. A dark object blocked out the sun, but when two yellow eyes turned to face him through a mask, Uryu put aside his fear and gave a weak smile.

"You're late, Kurosaki," he quipped, and Ichigo chuckled.

"I don't know about that," the Vizard said. "Looks like I'm right on time. What did I tell you about dying on me, Ishida?"

"Don't worry," the Quincy shot back, his pride returning with his strength, "I'll be more than happy to humiliate you in a duel, once this is done."

"Oi, morons!" Renji yelled. "Stop flirting and help us out!"

Ichigo frowned and turned his attention back to the Horseman, while Ishida scoffed and rose, shaking his head while wiping the dirt off of his uniform before flitting away to rejoin the battle. Kurosaki saw that Famine had finished regenerating his amputated hand, and he was furious.

"You impudent bastard! You dare scar one of the Four Horsemen?"

"I already killed your partner, Death," Ichigo hissed in his deadly Vizard voice. "All you are to me is another dead demon walking."

Famine's eyes widened as he took in what the orange-haired Vizard had said, and then they narrowed again to murderous slits.

"You… _you_ killed Death? She was the best of us, you maggot! Prepare to pay for your crime with your life!"

The Horseman struck with his spear and Ichigo jumped to dodge it, only to discover too late that it had been a feint. As the barbed spearhead raced towards him, Ichigo braced himself for the pain until a figure jumped in front of him and blocked the blow. All he saw was a red ribbon nestled in a head of dark, blue-black hair, but that was enough to make his breath catch in his throat. It couldn't be her, could it?

"Senna?" he breathed out, and the figure glanced over her shoulder and smiled, her burnished orange eyes twinkling with mischief even now.

"Long time no see, Ichigo," she said, forcing the spear and its wielder backwards with a shove. "I figured it was about time I repaid you for saving me."

"But… how are you here? I thought you ceased to exist when everyone forgot who you were!"

She smiled then, and it was almost like she'd never disappeared in the first place.

"You never forgot about me, Ichigo," she said simply, before turning her attention back to the staggering Horseman. Famine glared at her with a bloodthirsty hunger in his sunken eyes, and bared his teeth.

"Worthless cur," he hissed. "How dare you stand between a hunter and his prey?"

Rather than strike with the point of his spear, Famine twisted his wrist and sent the blunt end of his weapon smashing into her chin. Caught unawares by the uppercut, Senna was sent flying into a concrete wall and crumpled like a rag doll, blood leaking from the corner of her mouth.

"You bastard," Ichigo growled, lunging at the Horseman. Famine side-stepped the strike, parrying another vicious thrust by the wrathful Vizard before lunging with the spearhead aimed at Ichigo's heart. Kurosaki narrowly blocked the attack, and Famine leaned in to leer at his enemy as he put more pressure on the spear-point.

"Interesting," he jeered. "You don't fight to avenge that girl; you're just fighting to kill me. Who here really cares for you, I wonder? Let's smoke them out, and then I'll devour them and even the score between us."

The Horseman pushed the point of his spear past Ichigo's blade and slammed it into his sternum, drawing a pained howl from the wounded Vizard. Rukia's head snapped in his direction at the sound, his name tearing itself from her lips in shock and anguish.

"Ichigo!"

Famine's eyes lit up in perverse glee.

"Ah," he sighed. "_There_ she is."

Pushing the spear tip further into the Vizard's chest, he smiled with both rows of teeth.

"How does it feel, boy?" he crowed. "How does it feel to die?"

"Pretty much the same as every other time," Ichigo shot back. "What, do you want a cookie or something, you asshole?"

Famine actually paused for a moment at that, his eyebrow rising ever so slightly.

"Actually, one of those would be… wait, are you mocking me, you wretch?" he hissed as he caught on, applying more pressure to his spear and forcing Ichigo to bite back a scream.

"I guess I was," he replied, "but it's no fun if you're too stupid to get it in the first place."

Famine decided he had taken enough from this whelp, and yanked his spear out of his enemy's chest before holding it above his head, spearhead pointing down like the fang of an abnormally large and very hungry wolf.

"Once you're gone, she'll belong to me, boy," he taunted as he brought his spear screaming down through the air. Rukia screamed something with all of the strength left in her lungs, but before the lethal strike hit home there was a flash of blinding white light, forcing Rukia to close her eyes.

* * *

Karin looked at herself in the mirror on the wall across from her barstool and could barely believe her eyes. The girl looking back at her was sporting longer, more jagged hair than she was used to, and there was a thin line across her left cheek gradually fading from purple to white. Shinso had been a hard teacher, to say the least. The young Kurosaki could also swear she'd gotten taller, but she was probably just seeing things.

"What can I get for ya, miss?" the barman half-growled, and Karin was at a loss for words. After all, she'd never been to a place like this before. Gin let her stew in awkwardness for a few beats before stepping in, keeping the hood of his cloak over his head to avoid recognition.

"She'll have a cup of sake, as will I," he spoke smoothly, and the barman just nodded before slinking off. Karin looked over at her teacher apprehensively.

"Are you sure that's okay?" she asked, and Ichimaru just chuckled.

"You'll be fine; most Soul Reapers have high tolerances by nature. Besides, if anything it'll make focusing your spiritual energy easier; a calm mind always works better than a stormy one."

Kurosaki paused to consider that and eventually shrugged, taking a sip of the rice wine when it was placed in front of her. Gin took a heavier pull from his, leaned forward slightly, and began to speak.

"Do you want to know why I really agreed to train you, Karin?"

There was something in his voice just then that compelled her to listen; he had never been open like this before now, so she reasoned that it must be something important.

"I wasn't lying when I said it was to repay a debt I owed someone," he explained. "Truth is, though, that I didn't owe your brother anything.

"The person I had to repay was your father."

Karin's eyes went wide at that and she was glad she wasn't holding her cup of sake, or she would have dropped it on the bar and broken it.

"What?" she sputtered, sure that she hadn't just heard that. Karin could feel Gin's eyebrow rise up beneath the hood.

"You mean to tell me you don't know about your own father? He used to be a Captain in Soul Society, Karin. He was the one who first found me, and put me into the Soul Reaper Academy."

"No way…" Kurosaki mumbled, trying to make sense of what she was hearing before giving up and having another pull of sake instead. Ichimaru just nodded.

"Before Sosuke Aizen even knew who I was, your father had found me and seen through my mask like no one else had before, except for Rangiku," Gin continued, and Karin thought she heard his tone shift two shades closer to heartbroken when he said the name 'Rangiku'. Karin had the distinct impression all of a sudden that she'd heard that name before somewhere…

"He saw my power for what it was," Ichimaru said, "but he also know what could happen if I grew up in the wrong place, or learned about my powers from the wrong people. Trying to keep me from turning into a villain, he enrolled me in the Academy as soon as I was old enough. If he'd known about Aizen then, though, I do not know what would have become of me.

"Nevertheless, I rose through the ranks quickly and was scorned for it, my hope and optimism rotting over time into contempt and hatred. I tried to seek out Isshin for guidance, but he had left to go live in the Human World; apparently, he had fallen in love with some woman named Masaki."

Karin bit her tongue to keep from interrupting as her mother's name was mentioned, and let her teacher finish.

"I was desperate for guidance then, for a father figure to do what Isshin had done, to fill the gap in my life. But no one came, and I slipped even further into sociopathic rancor until I met a kindred spirit: Sosuke Aizen. He also saw me for what I was at that point, a monster, but he did not ostracize me. He took me in, as your father had done before him, but rather than keep my killer instinct at bay he nurtured it, made it stronger and stronger until the mask I had worn to conceal my true face became the only face I knew.

"I owe what little humanity I retain to Isshin Kurosaki," Ichimaru finished as he polished off his cup, "and if I have to teach you how to become a fighter to repay him, then that's what I'll do."

Karin thought about her sensei's words for a few moments before realizing that a lot of what she already accepted as normal was weirder than the idea of her father having a secret serious side, so she chose to give her teacher the benefit of the doubt. There was something she didn't understand, though.

"So what happened to your mask?" she asked. Gin just shrugged.

"Its usefulness expired with Aizen."

"So you're free now, then?"

Her teacher gave a sad smile she could feel without needing to see it.

"I don't think I'll ever be free, Karin," he replied.

Kurosaki suddenly remembered that the strawberry-blonde woman who had been Toshiro's subordinate had been named Rangiku, but before she could say anything a huge voice rumbled behind her.

"Demon, huh? Care to show me the skills that earned you that name, little one?"

Karin saw the big man's reflection in the mirror and her first impulse was to be afraid, but she squelched that immediately. She was a warrior now after all, right? Besides, she had fought toe-to-toe with Gin Ichimaru; what was this punk compared to him? She smirked.

"What makes you think I'd waste my time on scum like you?"

Gin smiled as he heard Karin's provocation; she was getting good at this, and quickly turning into the perfect ally for when the time came for his 'homecoming'.

Kurosaki closed her eyes as she saw the fist cock back, realizing that this was as good a time as any to test out her powers. Letting the energy flow throughout her body, Karin felt out through her reiatsu and pulled herself to the area behind her attacker. It was her first conscious use of flash-steps, and when she found herself staring at the thug's back her smirk widened into a smile. Raitori was at his throat in the blink of an eye, sealed but still sharp enough to end him at a moment's notice.

"_Those_ are the skills that got me that name, punk," Karin hissed, and the man blanched with fear. Kurosaki slammed the flat of her wakizashi into the side of his head and watched him crumple with satisfaction, assuming the fight was over.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

"So you're a Soul Reaper, huh?" one man said, rising from his seat and cracking his knuckles.

"Someone should'a told'ja, we don't appreciate your kind coming around here," another man continued, this one missing a few teeth.

"We don't appreciate it at all."

Gin smiled to himself, waiting to see how Karin would react to this. Would she be calm and strategic, like her father, or brash and headstrong, like her brother?

The young Kurosaki scanned the growing crowd of barflies, looking for the biggest, meanest, nastiest one she could find. When she saw him, standing tall like Goliath, she muttered a quick prayer for forgiveness and readied her attack.

"Flash, Raitori!"

As soon as her zanpakuto was unsealed, Karin vanished, willed herself behind the gargantuan man…

And shoved her sword right through his heart. She withdrew the blade as she felt his body go limp around it, wiped the blood off of the blade as silence settled in around her, and waited. Her strategy had been simple; eliminate the strongest threat, and cause the weaker ones to lose the will to fight. She convinced herself that she drew no pride or warrior's pleasure from so soundly defeating her enemy, but Karin did allow herself a bit of glee for having executed such a perfect flash-step without leaking any reiatsu in the process.

"Most impressive, young Kurosaki," Ichimaru chimed in once all of the other brawlers had tucked their tails in between their legs and fled. "I daresay that was a beautiful combination of brute strength and cold logic. You father would be proud."

"No," Karin said, shaking her head, "he wouldn't."

"Oh, really? Gin asked, his voice amused. "Would it change your mind to know that your father was once the Captain of Division Eleven, the foremost fighting Division in Soul Society?"

"He was _what_?" Karin half-shouted, incapable of seeing her father as a berserker.

Ichimaru smiled.

"That's why Kenpachi Zaraki was able to defeat the Captain of Division Eleven so easily; once your father left so suddenly, the Thirteen Divisions had to scramble to find a replacement. Needless to say, they didn't do a very good job."

Karin didn't know who this Zaraki guy was, but she was still reeling too much over this newest revelation to worry about that.

"My father… was a butcher?" she said half-to-herself, bracing her weight on the nearby wall to keep from fainting. Gin's smile faded completely at that, and he regarded his student with the coldest stare she had ever seen.

"Do not demean his memory, Karin," he hissed icily, and the young Kurosaki could feel traces of her teacher's reiatsu reaching out to coil around her despite the shroud.

"Your father may have been the greatest warrior in Soul Society, but he was not a butcher. He fought with a sense of virtue, and only drew his sword when there was no other possible outcome."

Ichimaru's reiatsu relaxed, and Karin slumped against the wall. Turning his back to her for a moment, Gin looked over at the barman.

"Do you have anything to eat? I'm famished."

"You're G—Gin Ichimaru," the barman said, looking like he was staring at the boogeyman. The silver-haired Soul Reaper looked at him evenly, the red in his eyes shifting like pulsing blood.

"Is that going to be a problem?" he asked coolly, and the man shook his head frantically.

"No sir," he replied, "not at all. Let me get you some bento."

"Don't forget one for the girl," Gin called out, before sitting down and finishing his sake. Karin stumbled over and joined him a few moments later, downing her cup, refilling it and downing the full one with surprising rapidity.

"Make sure you can still fight, Kurosaki," her teacher said. "We're leaving for the Seireitei as soon as we finish up here, and we have quite a walk ahead of us."

"I understand, sensei," she said, her voice detached. Right then, Karin just wanted to be home, to sit on her father's lap and look up at his goofy smile and know that everything was going to be all right.

But everything isn't going to be all right. She knew things now that she could never forget, and even if her father had been a virtuous warrior like her teacher had said, that didn't change the fact that he had killed people, cut them down and robbed them of their lives. So had she, of course, but this was different; he was supposed to be a huge goofball, a kind, loving man, a _doctor_; not some walking, talking Soul Reaper killing machine.

Then again, she told herself as the sake began to soothe her troubled mind, there was no reason he couldn't be both a warrior and a father at the same time.

* * *

The flash of white light cleared, and Ichigo found himself looking up at the last person he ever expected to see in a Soul Reaper uniform.

"Dad!?"

"Hey, Ichigo," Isshin Kurosaki said in a voice that was much more serious than his normal flippant tone. "I thought you might need some help dealing with this bastard."

"You're a…. a…"

Before the orange-haired Soul Reaper could finish his sentence, Famine's howl of anger drowned him out.

"God damn it!" he shouted. "Must you pesky Soul Reapers always interfere?"

"I was going to let Ichigo fight this one out on his own," Isshin said calmly, "but this has gone beyond a simple matter of pride. I hope that he will forgive me for interceding on his behalf, but I am your opponent now, demon."

Isshin pushed forward with a mighty thrust, sending the Horseman as far away from Ichigo as he could. Sparing a quick glance at Rukia, the elder Kurosaki gave her a small smile.

"You're talented with _kido_, right, Rukia?"

She could only nod dumbly, nearly as shocked as Ichigo by this turn of events.

"That's good to hear. Keep him alive, Kuchiki," Isshin urged her, before flash-stepping away to confront Famine. Standing tall across from the Horseman, the former Captain unsheathed his zanpakuto and held it out point-down, parallel to his body.

"I see you're using a spear, demon," he said evenly. "In that case, it's the least I can do to even things out. _Rage forth and herald the inferno, Enen Ohtori!_"

Isshin's zanpakuto glowed red and elongated into a spear, the shaft of which was ash-black and etched with molten orange markings that shimmered in the light like flames. The spearhead itself was sleek, sharp and golden, the light reflecting off of it and giving it the appearance of a live flame.

"Blazing Phoenix?" Famine asked mockingly. "Where's the fire, Soul Reaper?"

Isshin smirked and clenched his fist tightly around his Zanpakuto before slamming it into the ground, sending a wave of lava roaring up from the ground at the shocked Horseman. Barely dodging the blow, Famine got back on his feet and began to speak.

"_Ravage all that breathes, Kas_—_"_

"Too slow!" Isshin shouted, sweeping his zanpakuto across his body and sending out a searing wave of flame at his enemy. The Horseman stopped his release and dodged yet again, but the elder Kurosaki didn't let up on the pressure.

"Do you honestly think I'm going to allow you to release your sword?" he asked. "They didn't call me Kenpachi for nothing, demon."

Isshin pressed forward with a blindingly fast series of spear thrusts, keeping Famine literally on his heels and slowly but surely wearing him down.

"Man, this feels good," the former Kenpachi said, delighting in the feeling of adrenaline flowing through his veins once again. "I haven't had a fight like this in a long time. Still, I can't let this go on any longer, monster," he said with a smile,

"I promised Yuzu I'd help her with her homework."

Isshin spun his zanpakuto around and checked Famine in the gut with the shaft. Once the Horseman was staggering backwards the former Kenpachi went in for the kill, slamming the golden spearhead straight through his enemy's skull. Kurosaki resealed his zanpakuto as he watched Famine's body melt into thin air and he sighed, sliding Enen Ohtori back into its sheath before turning to face his now fully healed and awestruck son. Ichigo had shed his Vizard mask, and his shock was reflected in his deep brown eyes as plain as day. Isshin chuckled.

"Don't just stand there looking like an idiot, Ichigo; say something."

"You're a Soul Reaper?"

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" he replied, enjoying the look on his son's face immensely. But as much as he was loving this chat, he really did need to get home.

"How's Karin?" he asked, and Ichigo sighed.

"I haven't found her yet, dad. I'm—"

"Don't apologize, my son," Isshin said gently but sternly. "What happened to her was not your fault in the slightest. It was inevitable, and you beating yourself up isn't going to solve anything. Besides, she's a strong kid; I'm sure she'll do fine. Hell, maybe some day Karin will keep up the family tradition, and become a Captain like I was."

"So, you were the Captain of Division Eleven, Kurosaki-sama?" Rukia asked, and Isshin smiled.

"Sure was. Kenpachi Kurosaki, they called me. But that was a lifetime ago; all I have to remember it by is this piece of my old _haori_," he said, jerking one of his thumbs back at the piece of white cloth that flowed behind him, bound to his shoulder.

"Well, I should be going," he said, but before he flash-stepped away Isshin saw Uyru standing there and paused.

"Oi, Ishida," he said, and the Quincy seemed shocked that he knew who he was.

"The next time you see your father, tell him he still owes me for that one time forty years ago. He'll know what I mean."

Looking one last time at his son, the elder Kurosaki gave him his warmest smile.

"I'm proud of you, Ichigo," he said, and then flickered away.

With that Isshin was gone, leaving a plethora of shocked faces and unanswered questions in his wake. The sound of Orihime panting as she crested the horizon running at full tilt gently broke the awkward silence. Tessai, Ururu and Jinta were behind her, but when they looked around and saw the devastation, Tessai chuckled.

"Well, it looks like we're not needed here after all," he said, and Jinta kicked the dirt angrily with a scoff.

"Man, and I was really looking forward to busting some heads…"

"Let's go, Jinta," Ururu said meekly. "We have cleaning to do, remember?"

"This is bullshit…" the red-haired boy growled, but the three shopkeepers left anyway. Orihime could only look at her friend's expressions in confusion, wondering what had happened while she had been gone.

* * *

Sosuke Aizen opened his eyes and smiled.

The battle with his Inner Hollow had been long and grueling, but in the end it was the beast's uncontrolled rage and emotions that had allowed the infinitely more calculating Aizen to claim dominion over his soul, and complete the final step in his evolution.

He was now a Vizard, and there was nothing that could stop him from wielding this new power and enacting the ultimate revenge on Soul Society. Nothing stood in his way, except perhaps Mortos, but he would soon cease to be a problem. When he felt a tingle off in the distance, Aizen's smile widened. As the small orb of his exiled reiatsu merged with him once again and his soul cried out in jubilation at its wholeness, Aizen's smile widened even further into a smugly murderous grin.

Yes, Mortos would cease to be a problem very, very soon.

* * *

Byakuya and Saika were sitting in silence on the Kuchiki Mansion's porch facing the miniature orchard of Sakura trees, lost in thought and every so often breaking the silence to talk, as they had done on several occasions during calm times when they had both been Captains. Byakuya had enjoyed Saika's company because it allowed him to relax from the strict persona he had constructed so flawlessly, and Saika valued Byakuya's friendship because he reined him in, keeping the orange-eyed Soul Reaper from succumbing to his more impulsive instincts. And now here the two friends sat once again, Byakuya silently pondering how little things really changed over time. His reverie was interrupted sharply, however, when Saika's eyes snapped open and he cursed.

"What's wrong?" Kuchiki asked, his voice as still as the nearby fishpond.

"Sosuke Aizen just murdered my father," Aron said numbly, not wanting to believe Balthazar's report that had just come through their reiatsu bridge, but knowing it to be true.

"Aizen sits on his throne."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Whoo, that was fun to write. That whole Isshin scene had been nagging me for a long, long time, so I hope I pulled that off well. And I hope the further adventures of Gin and Karin were satisfying… things will really come to a head for them next chapter, though. Hope you enjoyed it, and **Please Review** if you would be so kind; it does wonders for my morale. Oh, and I'm sorry I left Grimmjow and Ulquiorra kind of hanging, but I didn't want to cram this chapter with too much stuff. I'll get back to them next installment, I promise.

**P.S.—**Thanks to Blekmedelninjan, XxIceFurXx, Beyond Flight, Split To Infinity, Revived Sin, MatsuMama and everyone else who has reviewed my story in recent memory or in the past… I'm deeply appreciative, and I'm past the 60-Review mark, which is beyond awesome. Thanks again for your feedback!


	15. The Fall of Seireitei

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Bleach, Tite Kubo does. I do own this story, however.

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 15: **The Fall of Seireitei

* * *

"If you desired our help, Lord Aizen," one of the three men now standing at the foot of Sosuke's throne said, "all you had to do was ask. There was no need to bring your might down upon our Circle and pound it into rubble."

Aizen looked down upon his three former soldiers and smiled smugly.

"I disagree, Zommari," he replied. "I had to see if the three of you were still capable of putting up a fight before I enlisted your aid."

"You doubted us, Aizen?" a one-eyed figure asked, giving his former master a sharp, hungry grin.

"I don't see why I should lend my strength to someone who has no faith in it."

The former Soul Reaper Captain shifted his smile into a smirk.

"Let's just say that there is something in it for you, Jiruga. Revenge upon a certain former Third Espada, for one."

Nnoitra's smile widened and his eye gleamed in the light of the smoldering embers that surrounded them.

"Now we're talkin'."

The final member of the triumvirate flicked the pink hair out of his eyes absently and sighed.

"And what would you have me do, Lord Aizen?"

"You, Grantz," the new Baron of the Eighth Circle replied, "are going to be paying a visit to some of our old friends over in the Human World. I'm trusting you to keep them there, and out of Soul Society, while Nnoitra and Zommari strike against the Seireitei itself."

Szayel chuckled, his brown-orange eyes flashing maliciously.

"Sounds interesting, Lord Aizen. When do I leave?"

Aizen rose and opened a Gate with an incantation, pulling on his Vizard mask when he was finished.

"_Now,_" he hissed. The former Eighth Espada was too shocked by the sight of his former master wearing a Hollow Mask to argue, and stepped through the Gate at once. Zommari looked upon his transformed master with something akin to religious awe, while Nnoitra seemed only slightly surprised.

"_You two, come with me,_" Sosuke ordered, and Nnoitra raised his eyebrow.

"You're seriously taking the time to deal with these insects, Aizen? Leave them to us."

The former Soul Reaper Captain turned and faced the previous Fifth Espada, his dark, Hollowified eyes gleaming with simmering hatred.

"_Let's just say I have a few loose ends to tie up, and then I'll leave the rest to you. Come on._"

With that, Aizen ripped open a garganta and Nnoitra followed him in behind Zommari, grinning madly at the thoughts of the carnage to come.

* * *

"So, first question: If you were Aizen, who would you send to spearhead your attack?"

Grimmjow, Ulquiorra, Nel, Soi Fon and Saika all gave some form of a noncommittal response, and Yoruichi sighed.

"You can't even give a guess? That's just sad."

"I might be able to hazard one, Yoruichi-san," Urahara spoke casually from the doorway, before walking into the impromptu war room and taking a seat by his comrades.

The Captain's Meeting had come and gone with the usual words of vigilance from Captain-Commander Yamamoto, but rather than grab a catnap or burn their energy patrolling these six warriors had instead busied themselves trying to outthink Sosuke Aizen. Needless to say, the arrival of the resident genius was going to make things much easier.

"Feel free to enlighten us any time, Kisuke," the Shihoin princess half-drawled, half-growled as Urahara took his time sipping on a cup of tea. He had always been a sucker for dramatic tension, but now just wasn't the time for theatrics as far as Yoruichi was concerned. The Twelfth Division Captain put down his porcelain cup delicately, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Sosuke Aizen may be absurdly powerful," he began, "but he isn't a machine. He has human habits and instincts, which will ultimately lead to a need for routine."

Grimmjow growled, pulling his newly-acquired zanpakuto partway out of its sheath before slamming it back in.

"Can you just get to the point, Einstein?"

Before Urahara could reply, Neliel took the opportunity to make Jaegerjaques squirm.

"Sounds like someone's on edge because their zanpakuto won't talk to them," she said, and Grimmjow stared daggers at the former Third Espada.

"Oh, it's talking to me all right," he shot back. "All it's doing is screaming at me, nonstop! This 'accelerator' he gave me is some garbage," the blue-haired warrior finished, snarling and glaring at Urahara, who couldn't keep a small smile off of his face.

"It's your fault that you won't try listening to your own soul; Urahara is blameless," Soi Fon chastised her Lieutenant. "Stop bitching and let it talk to you, instead of drowning it out with your gigantic ego."

Grimmjow bristled like a rabid jackal, but forced himself back down into a state of relative calm when he thought about what lashing out at his commanding officer would do his lifespan. Kisuke, sensing that this storm had passed, continued as if he had never been interrupted.

"What I mean is that Sosuke Aizen will seek comfort and strength in what he finds familiar. Aron-san, are there any other Espada who have wound up in Hell following their defeats?"

Saika thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"Not that I know of, no," he admitted. "I found Grimmjow and Ulquiorra randomly; if any other Espada were either despicable or hated enough at the times of their deaths to descend to Hell, they probably wound up in another circle. If that was the case, I doubt I would ever see them. The different Circles almost never interact unless there's a war going on between them, and that hasn't happened since before these two showed up," Aron spoke, gesturing at Schiffer and Jaegerjaques.

Neliel thought for a few moments and her eyes went wide, thin tendrils of fear creeping up her spine like poison ivy as she thought of two people she had known among the Espada who had been more than evil enough to get damned to Hell.

"If Grantz and Jiruga didn't wind up down there, I don't know who would."

The expressions of the former Fourth and Sixth Espada went from slightly stressed to deadly serious in a heartbeat. They both wanted a chance to carve Nnoitra to pieces, and if that eyepatch-wearing scumbag even so much as showed his face in front of them, they would flay it off.

"Who're they?" Saika asked, and Nel explained. By the time she was done, the orange-eyed prince wanted to give Szayel and Nnoitra a thorough beatdown of his own. How beings that unrepentantly cruel could exist was beyond him.

"All right," Soi Fon broke in, "we can assume those two are going to show up. Anyone else?"

Yoruichi spoke up this time, and all eyes turned to her.

"If what I heard of the fight was true, Byakuya began to battle with the Seventh Espada, Zommari Leroux, when he tried to kill Rukia. If there was anything that I know for a fact would make Kuchiki furious, it would be threatening the life of his sister. Perhaps he struck down the Espada with so much rage that he, too, was condemned to Hell."

Ulquiorra nodded his head tersely.

"It is not a certainty," he commented, "but nevertheless, it wouldn't hurt to assume Leroux will be a threat. He is a speedster first and foremost; I would recommend that your fastest warriors engage him as soon as he becomes a factor in the battle."

Urahara nodded, and Grimmjow snorted under his breath.

"Gemelos Sonido my ass," he said, "that guy's a total poser. Stark is much faster than him, by far."

"It's a good thing Stark is in the Maggot's Nest, then, no?" Kisuke said, and the three former Espada stared at the Twelfth Division Captain incredulously.

"You captured _Stark_?" they said simultaneously in various tones, their eyes wide.

"But he was…" Grimmjow began, and Kisuke smiled.

"The First Espada, yes, I know. But he's also a pacifist, it seems, and as soon as Aizen was defeated he surrendered and laid down his arms."

"He never did like to fight, that one," Nel said, a faint smile on her face, "but he could drink like a fish."

"What of Barragan and Halibel?" Ulquiorra asked, and Urahara gave a bittersweet smile.

"Barragan fought to the bitter end; ultimately, it was Yamamoto himself who took him down. Halibel disappeared in the chaos following Aizen's fall, as did Gin Ichimaru. We don't know where either of them wound up, but we're fairly certain they aren't traveling together."

"That's a shame," Grimmjow said. "She had a nice rack."

"_What was that_?" Soi Fon hissed murderously, and the blue-haired warrior paled.

"Nothing, sir," he insisted hastily, while Schiffer just smirked. "Nothing at all."

"That's what I thought," the Second Division Captain said, resealing Suzumebachi. The council was about to adjourn when Ulquiorra remembered one more thing that had been nagging at him.

"What of Captain Tosen?"

"Captain Komamura fought with him for quite some time, trying to reason with him," Yoruichi answered. "But when it was clear Kaname wasn't going to listen to him, the Captain ran him through. His body was never found, though."

Schiffer nodded once and was about to flash-step away when his eyes went wide and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Those three reiatsu… they were each tainted in their own way, but there was no mistaking their cores.

"They're here."

* * *

Ichigo, Rukia, Renji and the rest of the gang were just about to open a Senkaimon for the journey back to Soul Society when they felt an all-too-familiar rumbling and an imposing, wrought-iron Gate that led to somewhere much less pleasant than Soul Society appeared hovering in the air before them. Too exhausted to destroy it, the warriors could only watch in stricken disbelief as a lone figure stepped out from the fiery whorl within the Gate and dropped to the ground in front of them. When Ishida and Renji saw whom it was, their expressions changed from disbelief to shock and rage.

"You!" they both shouted, and Szayel Aporro Grantz gave his signature, slightly trilling laugh.

"It's been a while, children," he replied smugly, scanning the group arrayed against him and drawing Fornicaras, the hilt of which had become black due to the excess of negative energy Szayel had absorbed in Hell.

"I see I have some new specimens to play with this time around," he cooed. "What fun! I'm going to enjoy seeing you exhaust yourselves in front of me, Soul Reapers! _Sip, Fornicaras!_"

Renji and Ishida tried to stop the former Espada from unleashing his devastating _resurreccion_, but the blows they attempted to inflict on Szayel's swollen form simply bounced off harmlessly.

"He's going to start spewing out nasty black shit in a second," Renji shouted to his friends. "Whatever you do, do _not_ let it touch you!"

Grantz heard Abarai's warning and smirked.

"As if someone as clumsy as you could ever hope to dodge my attacks, Lieutenant. Eat this!"

The former Eighth Espada expelled a veritable geyser of goop, raining it down all around the seven warriors. They weaved and dodged as best they could, but eventually all of them were struck on one part of their body or another by the liquid. Well, all of them except for Orihime, who had beat a hasty retreat when Grantz had transformed and was currently standing behind her shield.

Now the warriors who were fighting had to contend with zombie versions of themselves on top of the currently-manic former Eighth Espada, who was sitting on his throne and watching the whole scene unfold with an insufferably smug grin on his face. Ichigo was tired, stressed-out and pissed off; all he wanted to do was kill this crazy bastard and get back to Soul Society. Hefting Zangetsu in front of him, the orange-haired Soul Reaper began to summon Tensa Zangetsu.

"_Ban—_"

Renji and Uryuu both knew exactly what was going to happen if Ichigo finished calling out his _bankai_, and they rushed to shut him up. Kurosaki soon found himself trapped under Abarai, who had hit him with a full-body tackle.

"You don't want to do that, Ichigo," he said. "Trust me."

Kurosaki shoved him off and glowered, getting back up on his feet.

"Why not?" he snapped, still smarting from being blindsided by the red-haired Soul Reaper.

"Because if you release your _bankai_, every single other clone of you is going to do the same thing!"

Ichigo thought of twenty angry clones zipping around at full speed with his _bankai_ and paled. Fighting so many versions of normal him was taxing; going up against that many in _bankai_ form would be murder. On the other hand, though, Zangetsu was far too slow to contend with the arrows that the clone Ishidas were currently hurling at him. Just as he was about to give up and call out his _bankai_ anyway, a huge blast of blue energy roared in front of him and obliterated the Quincy clone closest to him and four of its brothers. Kurosaki looked over and saw Chad, both arms activated and tearing through the clones like a man possessed. They locked eyes for a moment and the giant flashed him a thumbs-up. Ichigo allowed himself a brief smile before turning back to the skirmish.

Senna was currently clashing with a carbon copy of herself, something she found quite unnerving. She was never this aggressive normally, and was having a hard time keeping up with the vicious strikes and jabs of Mirokumaru. The pseudo-Soul Reaper was used to fighting her enemies at a distance, not up close and personal like this. She began to flag soon enough, and when Senna let her eyes off of her enemy for a moment she soon felt the sharp, burning sensation that accompanied being stabbed in the chest. Looking down, she saw that Mirokumaru's butt-spike had lanced clean through her abdomen.

Far from being defeated or giving up, however, Senna felt the purest surge of rage she had ever experienced welling up in her soul. Letting it break free and rush forth, the dark-haired warrior was soon surrounded by a raging vortex so intense that it shred the flesh clean from the bones of the clone who had run her through. The storm grew and grew, swallowing up everything in its path. Even Grantz was forced to give some ground, but before he was overwhelmed, Senna felt her strength ebb and leave her behind as it flowed from her body completely. The tornado faded accordingly, and as she fell to the ground Orihime dashed out from behind her cover, catching Senna before she hit the ground and laying her down gently. The auburn-haired healer activated her Soten Kisshun at once, heedless of the possible danger she was in. Orihime knew that the dark-haired girl needed healing, fast, and that was all that mattered. The remaining five warriors formed a defensive phalanx around their comrades, daring the clones to attack.

But then all of the copies all vanished at once, leaving the battlefield eerily silent.

"What the hell?" Ichigo said, but his question was interrupted by the voice of Szayel Aporro Grantz.

"This is taking far too long," he spoke, his tone characteristically breezy. The former Eighth Espada funneled reiatsu into his appendages until they had grown to roughly twice the length of a spear, before shooting them forward and engulfing Ichigo, Rukia, Renji and Chad in their clutches. The four fighters were spit out soon after, but even though they had changed at all physically, Grantz had still struck a fatal blow. Four little dolls now sat in his hands, two in each. Ishida and Renji both knew what these dolls represented and charged forward, but Szayel's two giant soldiers that made up his throne lashed out and knocked them backwards onto the shattered rubble.

"My, my, such rash behavior, so unbecoming of specimens," Grantz mused, shifting Rukia's doll so that Renji's was alone in his left hand.

"I think that deserves some discipline, don't you?"

The former Eighth Espada began by twisting both of Abarai's legs harshly, and Rukia winced as she heard them break with a nauseating _snap_. Renji valiantly bit back a scream, but Grantz was nowhere near finished. Opening up the doll, he took out the small part marked 'Liver'.

"I've heard you can't live without one of these," the mad scientist said.

"Shall we test that theory?"

Ichigo began to move toward Szayel's throne, but the former Espada held up Rukia's doll and Kurosaki froze.

"Interfere, and I crush her."

Ichigo backed off, but the barely contained rage surging behind his eyes was beginning to turn them blue with raw reiatsu. Grantz turned his attention back to Renji's doll, and was about to rupture its liver, but instead he stopped and put the doll aside. He picked up Ichigo's facsimile and opened it, his red-orange eyes shining with malice.

"You're a troublesome one, Ichigo Kurosaki," he said. "I should show you what happens to ants who get delusions of grandeur," the former Espada continued, reaching in to Ichigo's doll and taking out the 'Heart'.

"They get crushed."

Without another word, Szayel smashed the small object and the warriors watched in horror as Ichigo gagged, spat up dark blood, staggered forward and fell to the ground, motionless.

Ichigo Kurosaki was dead.

* * *

Around the same time that Szayel engaged Ichigo and his allies in the Human World, Nnoitra, Zommari and Aizen had just entered the Seireitei. They duped Jidanbo into thinking that they were some Second Division soldiers coming back from a patrol thanks to Sosuke's Kyoka Suigetsu. A few quick attacks had brought down the gentle giant, leaving the Gate completely unprotected. Seeing the canvas for their panorama of destruction laid out before him so peacefully, Sosuke could not help but smile at the thought of the entire Seireitei in flames. Pulling on his Vizard mask once more, the former Soul Reaper Captain handed an oddly-shaped dart to Leroux.

"_Go set up our first diversion,_" he ordered, and the former Seventh Espada disappeared with a faint buzz. Aizen then turned to Nnoitra, his smirk showing through in his voice.

"_Do what you do best_," he said casually.

"What about you?" Jiruga asked, curious.

Sosuke chuckled.

"_Like I said, I have a loose end to tie up. It's time I paid a visit to my former Lieutenant._"

Nnoitra grinned like a starving wolf and vanished, more than eager to demonstrate just how much power the demonic energies of Hell had lent him. Aizen left as well, on his way to the Fifth Division Headquarters. When he got there, he suppressed his reiatsu to the faintest possible shred and walked through the halls looking for Momo. When he found her, she was in her quarters, looking out of the window and nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot. Aizen was about to call out to her when he felt the imposing reiatsu of Toshiro Hitsugaya drawing near, and fast. Rather than be intimidated, though, Sosuke smiled. This was good, this was very good; he could take out two birds with one stone. Stepping over to hide in the shadows, Aizen waited for the new arrival and prepared his Kyoka Suigetsu. As soon as the Tenth Division Captain burst through the door, Sosuke activated his zanpakuto and smiled.

Toshiro had rushed over to the Fifth Division Headquarters to warn Momo that enemies had been sighted in the Seireitei, but when he took in the scene before him Hitsugaya was horrorstruck for a completely different reason:

Sosuke Aizen was standing behind Hinamori, his sword raised high above his head and ready to plunge through the completely defenseless Lieutenant. The traitorous former Captain looked over his shoulder at Hitsugaya and smirked, bringing his zanpakuto hissing down through the air. Not giving himself a chance to hesitate as images of Momo's broken, bloody form on the floor of Central 46's Headquarters flashed through his head, Toshiro lunged forward and plunged Hyorinmaru right through Aizen's back, saving his best friend and loved one for good.

_YOU FOOL!_

Hyorinmaru's angry, stricken shout almost brought Hitsugaya to his knees, and Toshiro shut his eyes against the strain. When he opened them again, however, he saw why his zanpakuto had been so distressed as he felt his own heart stop in his chest.

He hadn't just stabbed Aizen.

He had stabbed Momo.

The illusion of both the former Captain and Hinamori had vanished, leaving a dumbstruck Toshiro face-to-face with a shocked Momo, who had turned to face him when she had felt his reiatsu enter the room only to find herself viciously skewered on the one blade she had thought would always protect her.

"Shiro…chan?" she whispered softly, her eyes filled with nothing but stunned incomprehension.

Hitsugaya let go of his sword and stumbled backwards on his heels, too anguished to even make a sound, let alone respond to his best friend's question. When Momo's heart broke and she collapsed, unmoving, Toshiro finally found the strength to speak and let out a howl, falling on his hands and knees and weeping.

Toshiro Hitsugaya had been broken.

Aizen gazed upon his handiwork and had to bite back a laugh; not only had he tied up his 'loose end,' he had tricked someone else into doing it for him and simultaneously removed one of the biggest threats to his attack.

Sometimes, he impressed even himself.

Stepping out of the shadows, Sosuke gave the oblivious Captain a coup-de-grace before vanishing, leaving the dragon to perish next to his fallen loved one. It was the least he could do.

* * *

Zommari locked on to the reiatsu of the man who had once defeated him and raced towards it, ecstatic that he would finally be revenged upon that arrogant, self-righteous bastard. Leroux felt the Soul Reaper's reiatsu move towards Nnoitra's location, and when Byakuya Kuchiki was far enough away from the others to be engaged, the former Seventh Espada pounced.

Byakuya felt the foreign reiatsu appear behind him and he halted his stride, turning to face whichever enemy had been foolish enough to challenge him here, on his home ground. When his steely eyes met Zommari's burning ones, Kuchiki's expression morphed into one of rare astonishment.

"You?" he asked, and Zommari drew his sword.

"Me," he said, and Byakuya's eyes narrowed back into their murderous mask.

"I thought even someone as primitive as you would know when to stay dead, worm."

Leroux shifted into an offensive stance and replied.

"I simply could not allow someone as insufferably proud as you to remain breathing, Soul Reaper. Prepare yourself!"

Byakuya smiled to himself; did this fool really think that he could move faster than him, especially after announcing his intentions? There was a reason this Espada had been slain to begin with, and apparently his death hadn't made him any smarter. Kuchiki effortlessly completed the first step of his favorite maneuver, _Senka_, but as he turned to finish off his persistent enemy he felt an unexpected sting in his arm. Looking down, he saw that Zommari had pierced his bicep with the same dart Aizen had given him earlier. Before Byakuya could even ask what had just happened to him, he felt his stomach churn mightily and he vomited up a mass of black bile, falling to his knees. As Leroux made to leave the crippled Captain and move onto his next objective, he spoke a parting shot that made Kuchiki's blood freeze inside his feverish veins.

"Enjoy becoming a Hollow, Soul Reaper."

* * *

Nnoitra smiled in feral satisfaction as he watched the crowd of Soul Reapers amass before him. It was the sight of his former rival that made his blood pulse at a fever pitch, though; he was going to love pounding her into a pulp. Nel stepped forward, unsheathing her zanpakuto and letting it rest at her side. Jiruga noticed her lack of a mask and snorted.

"I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that a whore like you sold out to the Soul Reapers," he sneered. "But to give up your Hollow powers completely? That was just foolish, Neliel. Your _hierro_ was the only thing keeping my blade from slashing you to ribbons, and now it's gone. Hell, I bet that zanpakuto of yours doesn't even have a name."

"It does," the former Third Espada replied calmly, the ever-present kindness in her voice replaced by the hard, steely calm of a veteran warrior facing a duel.

"I don't think you'll have a chance to hear it, though, you slime."

Neliel flashed away and reappeared right in front of her nemesis, swinging her blade down only to have it blocked by Nnoitra's crescent blade.

"You've gotten slower, Oderschvank," Jiruga hissed, breaking his block and readying his weapon to attack. Nel lunged again, but Nnoitra snarled and brutally smacked her aside, watching her form tumble over the pavement in satisfaction before rolling to a stop. Isane ran over to heal the fallen woman, but Jiruga paid her no mind; there was no fun in slaughtering healers. The former Fifth Espada turned his attention back to the Soul Reapers not a moment too soon; Ulquiorra raced forward and lashed out at him with barely contained fury, and Nnoitra just barely blocked the strike. Part of Schiffer's zanpakuto was pressing against his flesh, and Jiruga had to bite back a hiss of pain as the steel bit through his flesh and drew blood.

"I should have done this ages ago," Ulquiorra said, pushing hard against Santa Teresa and breaking Nnoitra's block completely, carving a crimson swath across the former Fifth Espada's chest. Schiffer's eyes gleamed with bloodlust as he gazed over at his wounded enemy, who had jumped away and was now breathing hard in pain and rage.

"You wormy little bastard," Nnoitra seethed, staring daggers at the former Fourth Espada. "How did you cut through my _hierro_?"

Ulquiorra didn't reply, instead choosing to lunge again and aiming this attack square at Jiruga's head. Nnoitra parried and struck back, but right before the weapon made contact, Schiffer stuck out his hand and spoke.

"_Bakudo number 81: Danku_."

The barrier was strong enough to not only stop the strike, but also put a notch into Santa Teresa. The former Fifth Espada stared at the obstacle in disbelief, angered that he had been denied his kill.

"How did you do that?" he hissed, and Ulquiorra flashed a rare smirk.

"To be honest, I've never been a lover of swordplay," he replied. "_Kido_ is much more to my liking; those of us with high reiatsu prefer the more spiritual approach to fighting, as opposed to your brutish style of combat. If one fights like a beast, Nnoitra," Schiffer finished, lowering the barrier and raising his other hand,

"It is only fitting that they die like one. _Hado number 73: Soren Sokatsui._"

Two giant plumes of flame leapt out and swallowed Jiruga whole, and Ulquiorra took a moment to relish in his screams before turning around and walking back to join the ranks of very surprised Captains.

"We need to give him a seat in the Kido Corps," Shunsui told his Lieutenant, and Nanao nodded. Ulquiorra might have been a former Arrancar, but his talent with the demon arts was undeniable. She would have to see just how good he was at some point, but now was clearly not the time for that.

The silence that had settled over the dueling ground was broken almost as soon as it had come by the sound of maniacal laughter, and Schiffer turned back around to face where Nnoitra had stood as the smoke cleared.

"You bastard," the former Fifth Espada's voice hissed, "did you really think that would be enough to bring me down? You didn't even release the full potential of that _kido_. Don't make me laugh!"

The dust and smoke rolled away to reveal a fully unleashed Nnoitra, each of his six arms wielding a massive scythe. Any scars Ulquiorra might have inflicted were gone, and murder shone like the sun in his single eye.

"Care to try again, scum?" Jiruga taunted, but right before he could launch an attack, a piercing scream was heard off in the distance, its otherworldly tone unnerving enough to cause some of the Lieutenants present to cover their ears. Nnoitra laughed.

"Well, it seems like Zommari didn't fuck it up after all."

Urahara fixed the former Fifth Espada with a hard stare.

"What do you mean by that, fiend?"

Nnoitra chuckled at the question, his voice building into a laugh before subsiding.

"You mean you don't know, Urahara? You can't recognize this change in reiatsu? You were one of the first to see it happen, remember?"

Kisuke's eyes went wide as he recalled the last time he had felt something like this.

"No…" he breathed out, and Nnoitra's grin widened.

"That's right," he answered. "Lord Aizen saved a bit of the agent he used to infect the first ones to cross the line between Soul Reaper and Hollow, the first Vizards. And Zommari just took what was left of it and injected it into the Captain of your Sixth Division. In other words," he finished as the eyes of the Soul Reapers before him shot open in collective horror,

"Byakuya Kuchiki just turned into a Hollow."

Grimmjow, Ulquiorra, Saika, Kenpachi and Yoruichi all left to race towards the monster that was no doubt tearing a swath of destruction through Seireitei that was growing wider with each passing moment.

"Damn you," Kisuke growled, knowing better than anyone the devastation that such a change brought about, and the incurable nature of the condition. Byakuya Kuchiki had just been damned to a fate that Urahara had sworn an oath to never allow again, and the Twelfth Division Captain couldn't help but feel responsible for it. Nnoitra just laughed, reveling in Aizen's second victory.

The best, however, was still yet to come, courtesy of Zommari's special ability.

* * *

Karin struggled to keep up with the pace her teacher was setting, and could tell by his urgency that this was not just another lesson in flash-steps. Something had gotten under his skin, and that alone was enough to put the young Kurosaki on edge.

"What's wrong, Sensei? Why are we in such a hurry all of a sudden?"

Gin looked slightly over his shoulder to answer, not slowing his stride one bit.

"I just felt a presence, that's all," he said. "A presence I haven't felt since… well, that doesn't matter now. The point is that we need to get to the Seireitei, and quickly."

Karin's fatigue was building, and frustration began to bleed into her voice.

"Is my brother in danger?" she asked. "Because otherwise, I don't see why all of this sprinting is necessary. Stop being so cryptic and tell me what's going on!"

Ichimaru stopped at that, turning his blood-red eyes on his student in a glare so intense that her breath hitched reflexively in her throat.

"You really want to know what's going on, Kurosaki? Fine. If we don't hurry up and get to the Seireitei soon, the highest-ranking Soul Reapers in all of Soul Society are all going to die. And that's being optimistic and assuming they aren't dead already. Is that 'necessary' enough for you?"

Thoroughly chastised, Karin simply nodded her head and redoubled her efforts while Raitori growled angrily in her head.

_I don't know why you take that shit from him_, her zanpakuto snarled, and Karin frowned.

'Shut up!' she said. 'You're ruining my concentration. If Sensei says it's important, I believe him. Besides, people's lives are at stake. Do you really not care if they live or die?'

_I'm the manifestation of your negative emotions_, her sword replied wryly. _What do you think_?

'Just shut up…'

A few more grueling moments of flash-steps and the pair found themselves within sight of the Gate Jidanbo had been guarding. Seeing the giant lying on his side, bloodied and breathing shallow while his Gate was wide open, Gin frowned.

"Damn it. Come on, Karin, and be ready to fight."

The two of them entered into the Seireitei proper, and the young Kurosaki immediately experienced a pounding migraine from all of the reiatsu in the air. Ichimaru was about to scold her and tell his pupil to stay focused, but one particular reiatsu caught his attention.

It was Rangiku. And she was fighting… _Nnoitra_?

Oh, shit.

There were several other powerful Soul Reapers there as well, but Gin knew just how much Nnoitra despised female combatants. Rangiku would be one of the first to go down under Santa Teresa, and he couldn't let that happen. Drawing Shinso, the former Third Division Captain turned to Karin.

"I'm afraid that this is where we part ways, at least for now. Where I'm going, you'd only get yourself killed."

Karin gave a sarcastic smile, trying not to let the tension of the moment get to her.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sensei," she quipped, but then she froze as she picked up on one reiatsu she knew almost as well as Ichigo's.

Toshiro was somewhere nearby, and his reiatsu was fading fast. Either he was seriously wounded, or dying. Either way, she had to help him.

"You go get the prodigy," Ichimaru said, as if he had read her mind.

Karin nodded determinedly and the two separated, both anxious for their own reasons.

Gin raced towards Nnoitra's telltale reiatsu, ignoring for the moment the fact that a majority of the people he was about to save would probably just as soon turn their zanpakuto on him as they had on Nnoitra. But his own wellbeing was Ichimaru's last priority right now; there were vermin that needed exterminating. It did not escape Gin's notice either that Aizen had vanished completely, presumably back to wherever he had come from. No doubt he had just wanted to light the fuse, and not take any of the heat when the dynamite finally blew up.

How typical.

The first thing Isshin had taught him was that power was useless if you didn't use it to protect something. For the longest time, that something had been Aizen; but now he was gone, or at least the rational, if sociopathic, Aizen Gin had once known was gone. This new Aizen was clearly bent on nothing but destruction; to be a dictator in an empty empire. Ichimaru felt no reason to protect someone like that, which was what had propelled him, inexorably, to this point. Everything was on the line now. Even if he saved the day, Gin Ichimaru was putting his life in the hands of people who had more than a few reasons to want him dead. And with Ichigo off in the Human World, his ace-in-the-hole known as Karin Kurosaki wasn't going to buy him any sympathy. Nonetheless, he really had no other choice. As the sounds of battle reached his ears, Ichimaru braced himself and turned the corner.

* * *

Nnoitra was having a blast. He loved a good fight as much as the next guy, but an unfair fight in his advantage was even better. And with the strongest fighters out of the equation, the former Fifth Espada definitely had the advantage. He was feeling so good he had even resealed his _resurreccion_, just to give the fleas a chance. That pink-haired brat he'd met before in Hueco Mundo was the first to go, followed shortly afterwards by the prudish one with glasses. Her _kido_ had been even weaker than Ulquiorra's, proving in Nnoitra's mind why women had no place fighting. Some braided tomboy had charged at him and tried to use _shunko_ to take him down, but he dealt with her so easily it was laughable. Finally, after all of the weaklings had been brushed aside, someone came at him with spitfire.

She had steely, blue-gray eyes that just bled killing intent and light red hair that flowed around her face like a wreath of flames. Nnoitra was ready to parry her first attack when all of a sudden her zanpakuto disintegrated into ash. Very pungent, abrasive ash. He reeled back and barked out a few vehement curses as he blinked furiously to clear his vision, his eyes bloodshot with irritation and rage when he opened them wide. He was going to strike before this bitch could reform her zanpakuto to block his attack. Swinging his double-crescent blade down, Nnoitra could almost feel the warmth of her shed blood on his face.

But his strike never landed. In fact, the very last thing the former Fifth Espada expected happened. A blade shot over out of nowhere and broke his weapon in half in a single instant. As the interfering weapon began to retreat, all eyes followed it and were soon staring in shock at a face they all thought they'd never see again.

Gin Ichimaru was staring Jiruga down, his red eyes fully open and mouth drawn flat in a grim line. Shinso halted its retraction when it was the length of a normal katana, and Gin began to walk towards the former Fifth Espada. His black cloak fluttered behind him in the faint breeze, making Ichimaru look like the Angel of Death incarnate.

"And just what do you think you're doing, Nnoitra?" the former Captain asked, his voice colder and more emotionless than any of the Captains had heard before. Matsumoto had only heard Gin speak this way once, the day when they had been children and he had walked out of her life for what they both thought was going to be the last time. Jiruga refused to let his fear show, and faced down his new enemy.

"Ichimaru? What's a little pest like you going to do to me? I can beat Aizen's little lapdog without my whole weapon, no sweat."

At that Ichimaru's mouth twitched and he smirked, but his voice remained icy.

"Is that a fact?" he said, removing his reiatsu-sealing cloak entirely and boosting his power to its highest possible level.

Everyone at the Soul Reaper Academy had known that Gin was a prodigy, and a frighteningly high-powered one at that, but no one, except maybe Isshin Kurosaki, had known _just_ how powerful he was. Not even Aizen had glimpsed Ichimaru at his strongest; in fact, the silver-haired Soul Reaper had purposefully downplayed his ability to keep the Fifth Division Captain from seeing him as a threat. Now, Aizen was no longer his master and this disgraceful worm had dared to attack Rangiku.

There was no need to play it quiet, not anymore.

Gin's reiatsu rolled from him in thick waves, paralyzing some of the weaker Soul Reapers completely and bringing the still-recovering Jushiro to one knee. For Matsumoto, though, the energy felt like a warm blanket on a cold, winter morning, or the caress of a long-lost loved one you thought you'd never see again. In that moment, as the man who had been her best friend for years walked over to the terrified Espada, Rangiku realized just how much she'd missed him; how empty she'd felt without him.

_Damn you_, she thought, _for making me this weak_.

Nnoitra could barely stand, and his breath was coming in shallow gasps when he could suck it in at all. What the hell _was_ this guy?

Ichimaru simply looked at the former Espada in front of him with pure disdain, raising Shinso for the decapitating strike.

"Fucking pathetic," he hissed, swinging his blade down with terrifying force and inhuman precision. Nnoitra's head rolled to the ground and his body slumped over to join it, dissipating into the air shortly afterwards. Gin reined in his reiatsu and re-sheathed Shinso before looking down at the kneeling form of his best friend and offering his hand. Rangiku looked flustered for a moment, before regaining control of her renegade emotions and getting up on her own while shooting Ichimaru a very pointed glare.

"Suit yourself, Ran," Gin grumbled, turning his attention to the other Soul Reapers.

They were gradually getting over their shock at seeing the former Third Division Captain turned traitor in front of them, and if Ichimaru didn't play his cards right this would turn out to be a very short reunion. Urahara glared at him, no doubt remembering that night so long ago when they had first 'met', so to speak, in that moonlit field.

"What are you doing here, Ichimaru?" he said sharply, and Gin smirked.

"I thought someone like you would be able to figure that out, Captain," he replied with a hint of his old, mocking tone. "I was saving Lieutenant Matsumoto's life."

Before anyone could ask any more questions, or draw their zanpakuto, Karin suddenly appeared in between Gin and the other Soul Reapers. Toshiro's limp body cradled in her arms, and her eyes were wide and frantic.

"Please tell me someone here is a healer," she said breathlessly, and Ichimaru raised his head to the sky, voicing a silent thank-you to whatever God had been so merciful. His ace-in-the-hole had come through after all; even without Ichigo there to recognize her, Karin's unexpected appearance had saved Gin's skin.

Matsumoto recognized her Captain and rushed forward, all thoughts of her best friend banished from her mind for one incredibly tense moment. The red-haired Lieutenant put a hesitant pair of fingers to Toshiro's throat and a tsunami of relief washed over her when she felt a pulse underneath his neck. She moved aside like a flower stem bending in the wind when Isane gently pushed her out of the way and took Hitsugaya's frail form tenderly from Karin's tenacious grip.

Shunsui was curious about this new arrival, who could use flash-steps and possessed a zanpakuto while seemingly having no reiatsu whatsoever. He saw something oddly familiar in her face, but he couldn't quite place it. Stepping towards her with as congenial an air as he could manage, the floral-cloaked Captain broke the tense silence.

"And who might you be, young one?"

Karin looked deeply into the man's eyes, saw no threat lurking there, and relaxed her grip on Raitori.

"My name is Karin," she said, "Karin Kurosaki."

Karin glanced over the faces of the assembled Soul Reapers, ignoring their looks of shock and trying to locate a head of orange hair. When she couldn't find it, she frowned.

"Would someone mind telling me where the _hell_ my brother is?"

Before anyone could answer the question, there was a titanic spike in reiatsu and a huge explosion erupted in the distance, formed like a supernova and expanding out faster and faster. Moments before they were all engulfed by the flames, Ichimaru formed a prism of golden light in his hands and, hoping it would be powerful enough to get them outside of the blast radius, used the forbidden _kido_ _kukanten'i_ to teleport them all away from the Seireitei.

* * *

Zommari paused outside the door to the Captain-Commander's Headquarters, releasing his _Brujeria _while keeping his reiatsu to an absolute minimum. He was almost certain that he wasn't going to survive this even if everything went according to plan, and he wanted to make sure that he did not just rush headlong into the last mission he would ever perform for Lord Aizen. He would have to be swift, and accurate: grabbing someone like Yamamoto with his _Amor_ ability would not be what one would call 'easy'. Exhaling one final time and focusing his power, the former Seventh Espada used the full extent of his _Gemelos Sonido_ and vanished, appearing on the other side of the door.

The first thing Zommari noticed was that the Captain-Commander's desk was decidedly empty. The second thing he noticed was that one of his arms was now separating from his body, having been slashed off by a strike from Ryujin Jakka. Spinning around, Leroux locked eyes with the ancient Soul Reaper right when a huge gash was carved into his chest by Yamamoto's zanpakuto. Falling backwards, Zommari placed a sun-shaped marking square on the Captain-Commander's forehead.

Feeling the sovereignty of one of the most power people in existence come under his control was exhilarating, and the former Seventh Espada laughed despite knowing that he was about to die. Using the last of his strength to force Yamamoto into unleashing every ounce of his reiatsu at once, Zommari felt the world melt away as the explosion ignited before him and everything went white in a searing blast of reiatsu and pure heat.

* * *

As soon as they got Byakuya out of this Hollow form and back to normal, Saika was going to kill him. If he didn't get killed first, that was.

Byakuya's Hollow form was fast, graceful and deadly, just like his zanpakuto, and it was as brash and aggressive as Kuchiki had been when he was younger. When he got slashed up for the tenth time, Grimmjow looked over at his former commander in desperation.

"Are you _sure_ we can't just kill him, Saika?"

"For the last time, Grimmjow," the orange-eyed demon growled as he barely dodged another claw-swipe, "no, you can't kill him. We just need to buy time until he defeats his Inner-Hollow, which I hope for all of our sakes will be sooner rather than later."

"Ichigo told me once that it took him over an hour to master his Hollow," Yoruichi broke in, landing a solid _shunko_-fueled punch to Hollow-Byakuya's midsection and sending him flying backwards.

"But if I know one thing about Byakuya," she continued, "it's that he hates not being in control of himself. I'd give him another three minutes to finish this beast off, tops."

"I still think we should just kill him," Jaegerjaques grumbled, sidestepping another blow and chopping off the arm that had almost removed his head from its shoulders. Byakuya's Hollow roared in rage and re-grew the arm, lashing out with a vengeance. Ulquiorra tried to pin down the rabid Hollow with a near-constant barrage of bakudo _kido_, but like Senbonsakura, the Hollow seemed to be able to slip out of any trap and reform itself. Kenpachi was getting annoyed with the whole regeneration thing, and was about to tear off his eye-patch and go for full-on obliteration when the Hollow wretched forward and vomited blood without any kind of provocation.

"I think he's changing back," Yoruichi spoke, and Saika scoffed while gripping his lacerated left arm.

"It's about damn time, if you ask me."

Sure enough, Byakuya's Hollow began to crack and fall away like a cocoon, revealing the Soul Reaper beneath. Eventually only the Mask remained, and its form was decidedly atypical: it wasn't a single, unbroken piece, like the other Vizard's masks had been. In fact, there was really no 'mask' to speak of. The only thing that seemed to mark Byakuya as having Hollow powers at all besides the dark yellow shade of his eyes was a white, bone-like wreath that sat atop his head like an ancient Roman crown, replacing his shattered _kenseikan_. But this broke into fragments and dust as exhaustion overtook the newly-transformed Vizard, his eyes shifting back to their normal color as he slumped forwards. Yoruichi propped up her friend on one side, while Saika supported the other.

Right as the group was about to flash-step away, the gargantuan explosion triggered by Zommari Leroux occurred and the warriors tried desperately to outrun the sphere of raw reiatsu as it expanded faster and faster. They managed to make it to the East Gate and Ulquiorra, Grimmjow and Saika tore the iron slab clean from its hinges with a concentrated blast of reiatsu. With the last ounces of strength left in them, the battered and weary fighters performed one last desperate flash-step and found themselves mercifully outside of the walls of Seireitei, able to do nothing but look on in mute shock and stunned horror as the place most of them had thought of as impenetrable was swallowed whole.

* * *

_Back in the Human World_

As he watched Ichigo crumple to the ground and lie there utterly motionless, Szayel Aporro Grantz let himself relax and glory in his small victory. That would prove to be a grievous mistake, and the last one he would ever have the chance to make. The former Espada didn't even see where his death was coming from until it was far too late, nor did he ever expect the person who ultimately ended him to be the one to strike the killing blow.

"Koten Zanshun!"

The triangular shield, strengthened substantially by Orihime's shock and anger at seeing Ichigo fall, lanced through Grantz like a diamond-tipped chainsaw ripping through butter. The former Eighth Espada was in two pieces before he could even process what had happened to him, evaporating into thin air completely shortly after that. Inoue's comrades could only look at their friend with expressions of shock and awe on their faces at the unexpected and powerful attack, but Orihime paid none of it any mind. Her thoughts were now focused solely on Ichigo Kurosaki, and making sure he stayed alive.

Summoning her healing spirits, the auburn-haired girl knelt down and got to work. The actual physical damage wasn't that serious and would have been easy to repair on its own, but the large cloud of dark reiatsu surrounding Ichigo's ruptured heart made it much harder to reject. Thinking of an idea, she turned to Uryu.

"Ishida-kun," she said, and the Quincy was by her side in the blink of an eye.

"Yes, Orihime?"

"I need to treat Kurosaki-kun's wound, but all of this twisted reiatsu is getting in the way. Do you think you could draw it out with your Quincy abilities and discard it?"

Uryu adjusted his glasses as he thought. It was a smart idea in principal, but separating the reiatsu of an Arrancar from that of a Vizard was like differentiating between two models of the same car: the differences were there, but they could be quite hard to spot. Normally the risk of failure wouldn't unnerve the Quincy archer at all, but the fact that if he drew too much of Ichigo's reiatsu away he would be all but condemning Kurosaki to death was enough to put even Ishida on edge. Seeing the pleading look in Orihime's eyes, though, and knowing that a better option wasn't going to show up any time soon, Uryu nodded his head and readied his bow.

"I'll give it a try," he said, "but I need some space."

Orihime backed off hastily, and Ishida took a breath to steady himself before diving headfirst into the maelstrom of reiatsu that was Ichigo Kurosaki. The process of finding Grantz' reiatsu was actually much easier than the Quincy had expected it to be; after having been exposed to so much of it in Hueco Mundo, he knew almost every single distinctive characteristic it possessed. Isolating the invasive energy and forcing it into the shape of an arrow, Ishida released the projectile up into the sky and sighed in relief, almost feeling tainted by having handled the former Espada's reiatsu and glad his role was over. Orihime rushed back over and completed what she had started, using her power of rejection to bring Ichigo back to life. When she broke eye contact with her patient to give Uryu a look of heartfelt gratitude, though, the Quincy felt his heart speed up in his chest and his mouth went oddly dry. Forcing himself to remain calm, Ishida tore his focus away from the auburn-haired healer and looked over at Renji.

"Which one of you is going to open the Senkaimon to get us to Soul Society?" he asked, glancing between the red-haired Soul Reaper and Rukia. Before Abarai could answer, Rukia spoke up.

"I'll do it," she said authoritatively, and Renji scoffed.

"You've always sucked at making those things, Rukia," he chided. "If we leave it to you, we'll probably wind up somewhere in the high end of the Rukongai."

Kuchiki glowered, facing down her childhood friend.

"I outrank you, Renji," she shot back, "so I'm allowed to control the Senkaimon based on seniority. And besides, I make perfectly good Gates!"

Ishida cringed as the two of them sank into a shouting match, which was only broken up by an exasperated shout from Ichigo.

"Yo," he said, "are we gonna stand here all day listening to the two of you fight, or are we going to do something worthwhile?"

Both of the veteran Soul Reapers turned and stared daggers at Kurosaki for getting in the way of their squabble, but they also knew he was right. Sighing, Renji shrugged.

"You can go ahead and do it, Rukia," he acquiesced, and the violet-eyed Soul Reaper smiled.

As it turned out, that decision saved their lives.

Rukia opened up the Gate and the seven warriors passed through it uneventfully, avoiding the 'Janitor' completely and winding up on a hillside overlooking the Seireitei in the distance. Rukia felt small tears form in her throat as she realized that this was where she had trained with Kaien Shiba, but she blinked them back.

"Told you we'd wind up in the middle of nowhere," Renji groused, and he began to walk down the hill towards the Seireitei. Just moments after he had started to walk, Yamamoto's immolation began. Frozen in place, the seven friends could only stand and watch as all of Seireitei was engulfed and razed to the ground.

It was Ichigo who broke the silence, and he did so with characteristic bluntness.

"Well," he said, "looks like we're screwed."

* * *

And so the three groups of Soul Reapers and their allies found themselves refugees in their own land, exiled by an enemy they thought had long since been defeated. Each of the bands thought of the same place to seek refuge, and slowly grew closer and closer to each other until the entire sum total of the Soul Reaper population was standing in front of the same house. Its big red banner fluttered in the wind and ridiculously high 'chimney' put the Tower of Babel to shame: there was no mistaking who lived here, and she was one of the few friends the Soul Reapers had left.

By now Byakuya had regained his strength and was back on his own two feet, taciturn as ever and sporting a slight limp. Toshiro was breathing more steadily, but he was still slipping in and out of consciousness and Orihime frowned sadly when she saw the severity of the scar across his back. The Captain of the Tenth Division had more than just physical wounds to worry about, however: his heart and soul were still in pieces, and those would take much longer to heal.

The warriors were jarred out of their collective melancholy by a forceful voice shouting out from the doorway.

"Are you idiots going to keep standing there and starve to death, or do you want some dinner?"

Even Kenpachi Zaraki was more than mildly afraid of Kuukaku Shiba, and the group of exiles rushed past their hostess and down the stairs before they got an elbow to the face. Byakuya lingered behind for a moment, regarding Kuukaku with a look that held more emotions in it than Shiba thought the noble was capable of expressing.

"It has been some time, Lady Shiba," he said, giving a slight bow.

"Bah," Kuukaku scoffed, trying to ignore the slight racing of her pulse. "You can can the 'Lady' crap, Kuchiki. Our title died with my brother."

Byakuya gave the barest hint of a smile, and Kuukaku had to struggle not to smack it off of his face.

"Nobility is something one is born with, Lady Shiba," he said, "and it does not wax or wane with popular opinion. Shall we?" he asked, motioning inside the dwelling, and Kuukaku nodded. God, she needed to get away from this man, and quickly, before she just straight up kissed him.

Or, better yet, before she put him into her fireworks launch tube and blasted him all the way back to the ruins of Seireitei without an energy orb to protect his infuriatingly arrogant ass.

Then again, she thought with a wicked smirk as she trailed behind the noble, there was no reason why she couldn't do both.

* * *

While the rest of her friends and family were in the main room of the Shiba household eating dinner, Yachiru was sitting out underneath the stars on the grass, alone. The fight against Nnoitra played in her mind over and over again, and each time she felt the weight of her uselessness crush her heart a little bit more. She had been powerless to stop him, and it had almost gotten her killed. What would Ken-chan have thought?

_You're being an idiot, deluding yourself like this_, she told herself. Now the Seireitei was gone; her home was gone, and everything had been changed for good.

No point in clinging to the past now, not when the past had been reduced to a pile of rubble and ashes. It was time to do what she should have done years ago. Shifting her position and crossing her legs, Yachiru slipped into a deep, meditative trance and the air around her began to glow with pink reiatsu. Weak and flickering at first, it gradually gained strength until it was more than three times her height, and flaring strongly.

And then, slowly but surely at the beginning and gaining speed as it continued, the Eleventh Division Lieutenant began to grow up.

By the time she was done, Yachiru was as tall as Orihime, with pink hair that flowed down to just past her shoulders and a figure that looked as different from the child she had been just moments before as night looked from day. She was now a fully-grown young woman, and as she rose to her feet the Lieutenant found herself glorying in the feeling that she had thought for so long would bring nothing but awkwardness and unneeded emotional baggage. Flashing her familiar grin, which now had a distinctly predatory edge to it, Yachiru stretched out like a contented feline.

"_This_ is more like it," she said, laughing as she thought of the look on Ken-chan… no, on Captain Zaraki's face, when he saw what she had done. That was going to be one for the books.

* * *

**Author's Note:** That chapter was probably the hardest one for me to write so far, so feedback would be highly, highly appreciated. I hope you enjoyed it, and the next chapter shouldn't take me as long to write, although I can't make any promises. The history behind Kuukaku and Byakuya's previous relationship will come to light, Byakuya will start his Vizard training, and Karin might just get the chance to kick her older brother's ass. Come back for the next chapter to see just where our heroes will go from here, now that Seireitei has been destroyed!


	16. Pride

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach, Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own this story.

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 16: **Pride

* * *

To say that the atmosphere inside Kuukaku Shiba's dining room was incredibly tense would be a massive understatement.

The Kuchiki siblings were staring daggers at an utterly unfazed Gin, who was also being pinned in an intense gaze by Matsumoto; he made up his mind to talk to her later, alone and away from prying eyes. Ichigo and Grimmjow had slipped back into their old rivalry and were exchanging fighting words, while Shunsui and Jushiro looked like they'd just lost a parent. Kuukaku seemed like she was going to lash out at the next person stupid enough to piss her off, and had her eyes on the back of Byakuya's head like she could bore through it with her gaze. The rest of the Soul Reapers ate in an uneasy silence, and as soon as the meal was over the small crowd split up and went their separate ways.

As he saw a head of auburn hair moving swiftly down the hall, Ulquiorra hastened to catch up with it and spoke.

"Orihime."

Inoue stopped dead in her tracks, surprised that not only had Ulquiorra taken it upon himself to approach her, but he had also called her by her name. Steadying herself and turning around, the healer was even more surprised to see that the former Arrancar almost looked nervous.

"I know that no amount of apology will make up for the time you spent in Las Noches as a prisoner," he said, "but for what it is worth, I am sorry for the part I took in your troubles."

A leaf could have knocked Orihime over in that moment, but she regained her calm and replied.

"Why are you apologizing, Ulquiorra?" she asked, her voice perfectly sincere. "You were just doing what you had to do; it's not like you could have disobeyed Aizen's orders."

Schiffer raised a skeptical eyebrow. Humans really were an odd species.

"You're not angry with me?"

Inoue shrugged.

"If there's one thing my experiences have taught me," she spoke, in a rare moment of sagacity, "it's that life is too short to waste your time being angry. You apologized, I forgave you; it's water under the bridge, no?"

Ulquiorra nodded curtly. That had gone much better than he had anticipated; memories of that one smack she had given him still sat in the back of his mind.

"Thank you."

With that the former Arrancar flashed away, leaving Orihime to wonder what had gotten into her one-time enemy as she walked down the hallway and turned into her room.

* * *

Kuukaku Shiba sat in the main room ruminating, plotting the most effective and painful way to have vengeance on Byakuya Kuchiki for what he had done to her, all of those years ago. The prodigious amount of sake probably had something to do with it, but she had rationalized her binge at the time by telling herself that she needed to get the fluttering out of her heart. Even after all of this damn time, he still got to her. The woman felt the other presence enter the room and stiffened, but when she recognized whom it was she relaxed.

"You still haven't talked to him, I take it?" Urahara asked, sitting down across from his old friend and helping himself to some tea from the pot that rested on the small table between them. Kuukaku glared at him.

"What do you think, Kisuke? That bastard can go rot in Hueco Mundo, for all I care."

Urahara studied his friend's face intently in the glimmering candlelight for a few moments. When he found what he was looking for, his lips curled upwards and he chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Shiba asked, an edge to her voice as sharp as any zanpakuto. Rather than intimidate him, though, this gesture just caused Kisuke's smile to grow wider.

"You still love him, don't you?"

It wasn't a question. As the words hung in the air, Kuukaku's expression changed from hard to surprised, then to flustered, defensive, back to murderous, and then settled on a very stern glare.

"Don't be ridiculous. That bastard broke my heart; why would I still care about him?"

"You can say that as many times as you want, Kuukaku," Urahara answered, "but in the end it'll only make you more miserable. Talk to him."

Kuukaku crossed her arms and her sea-green eyes stared deep into Kisuke's placid gray ones.

"Give me one good reason why I should."

"Because if you don't go to Byakuya, he'll come to you. Would you rather take the offensive, or be put on defensive?"

Shiba ground her teeth for a good ten seconds before giving in with a huff.

"Remind me why I listen to you again, Kisuke?"

The Captain smiled warmly, getting up and taking his teacup with him.

"I'm the genius, remember?" he said, before winking a gleaming eye and disappearing.

Eventually Kuukaku rose as well, stretching and realizing that she wasn't tired at all. Either the tea was stronger than she thought, or something Kisuke had told her put life back into her torpid limbs. In any event, she wasn't about to go to sleep any time soon and Kuukaku Shiba had never dealt well with idleness. As she stood there, the fireworks expert and former noble felt the faintest hint of Byakuya's reiatsu hovering nearby, as if it was calling out to her. Wavering for all of five seconds, Kuukaku made up her mind and followed it like a trail of breadcrumbs, eventually winding up in her backyard, a massive rolling expanse of green with flowers lining its borders.

In the middle of the field, cross-legged and with his back facing her, was Byakuya Kuchiki.

He had eschewed his _haori_ and was clad in a simple black kimono, his dark hair free of its usual constraints and flowing down to slightly past his shoulders. A wreath of something white that looked almost like bone crowned his head, and in the moonlight he looked almost ethereal. Forcing herself to remain calm, Kuukaku walked towards her old flame and was about to sit beside him when an odd voice called out to her. It was his, but at the same time it wasn't.

"Now would not be a good time to talk, Lady Shiba," the voice said, sounding like a tornado that was being barely contained and gnawing against its restraints.

"I am not myself."

Kuukaku almost let fear stop her stride, but she crushed that pitiful emotion like a bug and continued to approach him.

"That makes it a good time," she countered. "Unless you're afraid of letting your armor down around me."

"That has nothing to do with it," Byakuya half-growled, his hands gripping his kimono hard enough to rip it.

Truth be told, he was more than a little afraid. Kuukaku's headstrong attitude had been one of the reasons he had been drawn to her in the first place. In his Vizard state, however, Byakuya found that his long-dormant competitive side became dominant. There was no telling how hard he would push back if she goaded him now, and knowing Kuukaku, that was exactly what she was going to do. Kuchiki was jolted out of his reverie by the sound of someone sitting down next to him, and turned his head to see Shiba's profile staring up at the moon. When she didn't speak for several moments, he turned back and closed his dark yellow and black eyes, resuming his meditation.

Kuukaku had felt Byakuya's strange eyes on her, and it had taken every ounce of her willpower to keep from shivering. What had happened to him? Shoving the fear from her mind yet again, the woman softly asked a single, loaded question.

"Why did you do it?"

Kuchiki knew exactly what she was talking about, but it was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now.

"Do what?" he asked, hoping his attempt at stonewalling her would make Kuukaku shut up.

He should have known better. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Shiba turned the noble towards her and shook him with such force that the shock to his system jolted him out of his Vizard state.

"What do you mean, 'do what', you arrogant piece of shit?" she shouted. "You know exactly what, Byakuya! Why did you jilt me on our goddamn _wedding day_?!"

The pain caused by that question was even more excruciating than when Shinso had pierced him right above his heart, and if Byakuya hadn't been sitting he would have reeled backwards. The memories of that morning, and the conversation with Kaien Shiba, were still as fresh in his mind as if they'd happened the day before.

* * *

"They're going to _what_?"

"I know, I know," Kaien said, holding his palms out defensively. "Trust me, Kuchiki; I find this as repulsive as you do. I tried to get my old men to listen to reason, but they still insisted that they would disinherit my sister if the two of you went through with this. They keep bringing up our 'past history' as a reason, as if that bullshit even matters any more."

Byakuya wanted to rip the throats out of every single Shiba elder. The 'history' they were referring to was a feud that had erupted between the two clans' heads ages ago, and had never been resolved. Byakuya's grandfather had tried to mend the wound, only to be shot down by both the elders of his clan and the irascible head of the Shiba. Byakuya was inclined to just forget the whole thing, as was Kaien, the current head, but it seemed as though the elders just couldn't let the sleeping dog lie. Too frustrated to speak, Kuchiki let out a seething sigh.

"Kuukaku is going to murder me when she finds out about this," he said sadly, subconsciously fingering the silver band that rested on his ring finger. "Even though it's for her benefit, she'd never understand…"

"I could try talking to her about it, if you wanted me to. Then again, I'm her brother, so who knows whether or not she'd listen to me."

"No," Byakuya insisted, with a little more vehemence than he'd intended. "No, you can't tell her. If she knew why I was doing it, she'd hate me even more. I can hear her know: 'I don't need your pity, you horse's ass! Who do you think I am, some shrinking violet?'"

Kaien gave a bitter chuckle.

"Maybe she would say that," he admitted, "but I personally think that's a risk you should take. She's going to need _some_ reason, Kuchiki."

"Let her think what she wants of me," Byakuya replied. "As long as her name and security are retained, she can think of me as the most worthless piece of scum in Soul Scoiety and I won't care."

The Shiba head raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Are you sure about that, Byakuya?" he asked, using his first name for added effect. Kuchiki glared at him for a moment before relenting, his slate-colored eyes weary.

"I have no choice," he said, as much to himself as to Kaien. "Someone like her deserves to live a good life, and I know that even if I were to take her into my house, those old bastards I call my elders would never accept her if she was cast out of your clan."

Shiba paused for a moment before saying anything; he had never seen Byakuya this emotional or expressive before since he'd become head of the Kuchiki Clan; clearly, this whole thing had him much more distressed than he wanted to let on.

"You really do love her, don't you?"

Byakuya nodded sadly.

"Enough to let her go."

Kaien sighed, this whole thing was really killing his normally cheery mood. He had to get out of here and back to Miyako before he started writing laments in haiku and drinking heavily.

"Well, I'm sure it'll work out someday, my friend," he reassured the upset noble. "Until then, though, at least try to be happy. I'm sure that's what my sister would want, even if she would never admit it."

Byakuya shrugged.

"I'm going to go drown my sorrows in sake," he said, turning around and walking away as his scarf flapped in the wind.

"You want a wingman?" Kaien offered, shivering at the thought of what a drunk, heartbroken Byakuya Kuchiki would be capable of. Considering it for a moment, Kuchiki nodded.

"A spotter would be nice," he said. "As much as I'd love to drink myself into oblivion right now, I doubt that would make people in my household very happy."

"I'd say that's a safe assumption to make," Kaien said awkwardly, and the two of them left to go get absolutely sloshed.

It had been the third night of Byakuya's binge when, sitting on a corner with his clothes in disarray and breath reeking of sake, he had met the only other woman to be able to see through his façade besides Kuukaku:

Hisana.

She had taken him in, ignorant of his identity, and Byakuya saw in her the exact opposite of the woman he had left behind. Eager to leave the pain Kuukaku's memory instilled in him behind, Kuchiki had made overtures to his Good Samaritan and they were promptly accepted. But what began as a desperate lifeline, the epitome of a rebound relationship, slowly and unexpectedly turned into something genuine. Byakuya and Hisana grew closer and closer, thanks in no small part to Hisana's gentle persistence. She might have been the exact opposite of Kuukaku, but because of that Byakuya had dropped his guard completely. Hisana succeeded in slowly but surely carving out a place in his heart, and the rest, as they say, is history.

* * *

As Byakuya finished another story he swore he would never tell, he looked over to see Kuukaku staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face. At least she hadn't smacked him yet, something Byakuya tallied up as a point in his favor.

"You are such an idiot," she said after another moment had passed. "What makes you think I would care so much about my standing?"

Byakuya frowned; she could be so bullish at times it was infuriating.

"Consider what would have happened had I died in the line of duty, Kuukaku. Where would you have gone, with no port in the storm once my Clan kicked you out and your own House refused to take you in?"

Shiba grit her teeth, refusing to let Kuchiki win this argument.

"I would have made do."

Byakuya chucked sadly.

"Someone such as yourself deserves far better than just 'making do', Lady Shiba."

A silence sat between them for some time, until Kuukaku broke it with another loaded question.

"So… do you still love her?"

Byakuya sighed, looking up at the full moon and wondering for a moment what it would be like up there.

"A part of my heart always will," he admitted. "The rest of it, however, remains with you."

"Really?" Kuukaku was skeptical of that claim, to say the least. She had heard through Yoruichi about the time Byakuya and Hisana had spent together; five years was more than long enough to forget someone.

To answer her question, Byakuya wordlessly reached into his kimono and pulled out a small, delicate chain that hung around his neck. At the bottom of the chain rested a silver ring, and Kuukaku's breath caught in her throat. She had one just like it in a box she had locked away in her room and sworn never to open again:

It was their engagement ring.

"You kept it?" she asked, stunned.

"It has never left me since that day," Kuchiki answered, his voice soft and earnest; it was as vulnerable as Shiba had ever heard it.

"But what about your time with Hisana?"

"She understood," Byakuya replied. "She was a very… empathetic person. Hisana accepted that there were people I would never let go of, and agreed to live with me in spite of that. Had you met, I think you might've liked her."

Kuukaku chuckled.

"I don't think I would have given her a chance," she said. "My fist has a bad habit of acting on its own sometimes."

"I know," Byakuya replied, chuckling in kind and rubbing a scar on his chin that had been left there by a particularly potent punch many years ago.

Kuukaku decided to swallow her grudge and take the plunge, wrapping her good arm around Byakuya's shoulders. When he didn't shrug her off, she leaned into him and sighed. There was something about him that was magnetic; his quiet strength, regal bearing and determination to fight tooth-and-nail for those he cared about combined to make the Captain an almost irresistible person. It was just his emotional armor that kept the hordes at bay, that barrier that a select few had penetrated and that even fewer had seen let down without demanding it. Now, just inches from his calmly-beating heart, Kuukaku remembered why she had fallen for him in the first place, and promised herself that she wasn't going to let him leave her like a total moron a second time.

"The moon is lovely tonight," he mused, and Shiba could only mumble her agreement. The breeze danced gently around them, and Kuukaku almost hated to interrupt the moment, but there was one last thing she needed to know.

"What was with your eyes back there, Byakuya?"

Kuchiki sighed; talk about an unpleasant topic. Then again, Kuukaku had never been one for decorum.

"That is a… long story."

"I don't mind," she replied, resting her head on Byakuya's shoulder. "We've got plenty of time."

Several minutes later, a flash went off over the now-sleeping pair and Urahara pocketed his camera with a mischievous grin. This was such good blackmail material, it was ridiculous.

He was never getting punched in the face by Kuukaku Shiba again, that was for sure.

* * *

Matsumoto was half-asleep and struggling with old dreams when she heard light footfalls enter her room. She didn't even need to sense his palpable reiatsu; Rangiku could tell from the sound of those footsteps alone that Gin had finally decided to show up. Those careful, deliberate steps had sounded sweeter than the harps of angels when she had been pining for his return all of those years ago, but now she wasn't sure what to think of her best friend. When silence had hung in the air for several heartbeats, Matsumoto rolled over onto her back and spoke, staring up at the ceiling.

"What do you want, Gin?"

Ichimaru sat down in a chair, tacitly admiring the way the moonlight illuminated her prone form. This wasn't the emaciated, crescent-moon light of Las Noches, either; this was a brilliant full moon, and its rays enveloped her like a celestial shroud. She looked like some kind of heavenly being, and for a moment Gin felt blasphemous sitting in the same room as her. Determined to ease at least some of the guilt from his heart, the former Captain got up and shuffled quietly over to Rangiku's bedside. Looking down at her with open eyes, he spoke in the most remorseful voice Matsumoto had ever heard him use.

"You'll never forgive me, will you?"

Rangiku rolled over to look up at Gin, and was about to tell him off when her eyes met his and her tongue decided to stop working altogether.

The moonlight that his body was keeping from falling upon her was framing him now instead, and Matsumoto felt rational thought seeping languorously from her head as she looked up at her oldest friend. His silver hair had gained the appearance of a halo, and his sharply defined facial features softened in the light. His eyes gleamed in their sockets like lustrous rubies, and it was only by forcing herself away from their hypnotic gaze that she was able to think again. Swallowing back the words of forgiveness that were all but clawing at her tongue to spring free, Matsumoto hoped that there were not tears in her eyes to betray her as she spoke.

"No," she choked out, not daring to look at Ichimaru's face in that moment. "I might be able to forgive you for your crimes against Soul Society, some day," Rangiku continued, "but the fact still remains that, when push came to shove, you chose him over me. That, Gin, is something I'll never be able to forgive you for."

She expected her friend to curse, or sigh, or do _something_ emotional, followed by storming out of the room, but he didn't budge. Drawing in a ragged breath, he spoke grimly.

"Look me in the eyes and say that, Ran. If you can do that," the former Captain finished, "I'll walk out of that door and you'll never see me again."

Matsumoto felt the stone shell around her heart cracking, and she hated herself for it. When she tried to pass that hatred off onto Gin, though, she found that she couldn't. Why not? It should have been the most natural reaction in the world, and yet all Rangiku felt was a piercing sense of self-loathing. As she looked up into those garnet orbs again, and saw the shattered innocence that lay hidden deep within them, Matsumoto finally realized why she felt the way she did.

All of these years, she had been almost subconsciously blaming herself for letting Gin fall into evil. If only she'd said something else, or done something different to get him to stay beside her, maybe this whole story wouldn't have turned out so screwed up in the end. Maybe he would still be the cheery, albeit introverted, kid she had known, instead of this battle-scarred, borderline sociopathic warrior who had turned his back on her, and everything their bond had represented. Unable to hold back a few bitter tears, Rangiku cursed her weakness with every fiber of her being even as she began to tremble lightly under the crushing weight of her guilt.

Matsumoto barely felt the weight of her friend join her on the bed, and the feeling of his fingers tracing light, gentle lines through her hair felt like the touch of a gentle breeze in the middle of an arid desert. When he leaned his head down and whispered, his voice was more soothing than even the most potent of Captain Unohana's healing _kido_.

"It's all right, Ran," he breathed. "Let it out. It's not your fault…"

Slowly but surely all of her wracking sobs came to the surface and ebbed from Rangiku like a receding tide, and Gin never left her side once. Using his kimono's sleeve to wipe Matsumoto's tears from her face with a tenderness that surprised even him, Ichimaru let his hand trail idly down his friend's cheek as her eyes fluttered and closed. As exhaustion finally claimed Rangiku, Gin rose and began to leave the room until a thought stopped him in his tracks. If he left now, and wasn't there when she woke up, he might very well be gambling the unexpected ground he had just gained. Turning back around, Gin plucked a book from a nearby shelf and sat down by Rangiku's bedside. He read by moonlight until sleep claimed him as well and he slumped over, silver hair hanging messily about his face as he slept. Every so often, Gin would emit a soft snore that brought the ghost of a smile to Rangiku's lips.

* * *

Yoruichi woke up with a start, her eyes snapping open as her hands clenched reflexively around Saika's waist. The slumbering demon prince groaned and shifted in his sleep, but he did not wake. The golden-eyed princess detached herself carefully but rapidly from her partner, changing swiftly into her cat form so that she could sprint to the bathroom without making too much of a ruckus. Once she was there, Yoruichi reassumed her normal shape and lurched over the porcelain bowl, unceremoniously vomiting up her dinner. After she had gotten over the initial shock of such an unexpected action, Shihoin slumped against the opposite wall and sat down on the cold tile floor. Putting one hand on her temple, she turned her sharp mind to the task of figuring out why the hell that had just happened. Kuukaku's cooking was the polar opposite of Orihime Inoue's, and as far as she could tell no one else had been suffering from pangs of indigestion that night. So why had she awoken so abruptly?

Her stomach growled viciously and Yoruichi braced her other hand against it in a vain attempt to calm it down. As it lingered there for a few more moments, though, the princess felt something that made her eyes almost pop clear out of her head.

There was another reiatsu signature inside of her abdomen, one that felt suspiciously like a combination of her own spiritual energy and Saika's. As her slightly foggy brain put two and two together, Yoruichi didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or bawl tears of joy.

She was pregnant.

Quickly rising to her feet, the golden-eyed princess padded back into the room as fast as she could on her normal pair of legs and moved smoothly over to Saika's side of the bed, prodding him insistently.

"Psst, Sai!" she hissed. "Wake up!"

"Whuzza… Yoru? Whatssa matter?" he mumbled through his lethargic haze, wondering why he had been shoved awake at such an ungodly hour.

Yoruichi had to fight hard to keep from spilling the beans right then and there; she wanted to stretch it out for a bit, if only to make that look on his face when he found out all the more shocked.

"Can you tell anything different about me?" she asked, her hands hovering restlessly over her hips.

Aron sniffed the air tentatively and cringed.

"You smell like puke?" he said bluntly, and the princess shot him a glare.

"What else do you notice, blockhead?"

Saika flashed his orange eye pleadingly at his loved one.

"Can I get a hint, Yoru?"

Yoruichi took one of his hands and placed it on her sternum, slowly trailing it downwards until it rested squarely on her abdomen. By the time his hand reached its destination, Saika was so thoroughly in tune with his loved one's reiatsu that the difference stuck out to him like a rose in the middle of a cluster of dandelions. His eyes went wide with shock, an emotion that soon gave way to stunned wonder as he met Yoruichi's ecstatic golden eyes with his equally vibrant orange one.

"You're pregnant?" he whispered, with reverential awe. The Shihoin princess flashed her widest feline grin and nodded, a gesture that seemed to rouse Saika out of his trance. Laughing joyously, he gently lifted Yoruichi back into the bed and wrapped her in his arms, the two of them lost in their happiness.

* * *

Yachiru felt the presence of her Captain behind her and stiffened as she waited for a scolding of some kind. When none came, however, she relaxed.

"I was wondering how long it would take you," Kenpachi said, his voice unusually serious.

"Why did you choose now?"

Yachiru kept her gaze focused out into the distance, and sighed.

"I was tired of being dead weight, Captain. In that fight against Nnoitra, I…"

The light but insistent pressure of Zaraki's rough, calloused hand on her shoulder made Yachiru's voice fall still, and she looked up to lock gazes with her Captain.

"First thing's first," he said, "what happened in that fight with Nnoitra was in no way your fault. Hell, even I had a bit of trouble with that bastard, and that was before he went all batshit-demon-insane."

Yachiru chuckled despite herself, but Kenpachi wasn't fnished.

"Second," he continued, "I can respect your choice if you made it because you want to be more useful in the upcoming battles, but if the only reason you did it was to get rid of some guilt complex you have, I'ma chase you around and fight you nonstop until you change back. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir, Captain Zaraki." Yachiru said firmly and with a smile, but Kenpachi's frown remained in place.

"Which brings me to my final point," he finished. "You aren't really my subordinate, so stop acting like it. The next time you call me 'Captain Zaraki,' I'm giving your spot to Ikkaku."

Yachiru's smile grew even wider.

"Whatever you say, Ken-chan," she replied, and Zaraki let out a rumbling chuckle.

"That's my girl," he said with as much affection as his voice allowed, patting her on the head. "Now go get some rest," he finished sternly. "We've got some big days ahead of us, I can tell."

His Lieutenant nodded sharply and sped off, her running still as freakishly fast as always despite her change in form. Zaraki smiled; it was going to be all kinds of interesting adapting to the new Yachiru. But his mind quickly turned away from that, and focused on something much more immediate and captivating:

Kenpachi Zaraki had found himself an opponent, and it wasn't Ichigo Kurosaki. No, this time his zanpakuto, Muramasa, would clash with the one-and-only Senbonsakura. The Eleventh Division Captain had seen the raw power of Byakuya Kuchiki's Hollow form, and Zaraki knew that if there was one foe who could provide him with a fresh challenge for his recently-christened zanpakuto, it was the Sixth Division Captain. They were going to go all-out tomorrow, and if Byakuya proved himself worthy the Kenpachi might even show the noble his _bankai_.

* * *

Toshiro couldn't sleep. The last time he had been hit by insomnia so crippling had been the night before the first assault on Seireitei, but this time it wasn't nervous anxiety that kept him awake.

It was disgust.

Disgust at his failure to protect Momo from Aizen, and disgust at the fact that _he_, not the traitorous Captain, had been the one to end her life. Suddenly, the Captain's _haori_ on his back felt like a gigantic lead weight. Yanking it off, Hitsugaya tossed it angrily into the corner, where it sat limply against the wall.

_Stop it, child_.

Hyorinmaru's voice was as chilly as always, but for some reason Toshiro didn't feel comforted by its presence. The rage that had coiled in his soul was expanding slowly outwards, its heat rushing through the young Captain's veins and making his heart pound even faster.

"Shut up…" he growled, his anger shifting its focus to the zanpakuto that had performed the deed. If Hyorinmaru had warned him earlier, then maybe he wouldn't have acted so suddenly. Why hadn't his zanpakuto helped him? It was supposed to be part of his soul, right? What had it been thinking?!

Hyorinmaru saw what was coming, and tried desperately to calm his grieving master down.

_Toshiro, don't do this. You cannot afford to lose my power, not now!_

Unfortunately for the celestial zanpakuto, these words did not calm Hitsugaya back into a rational state of mind. Instead, they achieved the exact opposite effect.

"Your power?" Toshiro spat angrily. "You mean the power that let me stab Momo, the power that skewered her like a piece of meat? I can do perfectly fine without that power, thank you very much!"

Stabbing Hyorinmaru into the nearby wall, the Captain pulled as hard as he could and snapped the blade in two.

For a normal Soul Reaper, such as Renji Abarai, Mayuri Kurotsuchi or even Ichigo Kurosaki, having their zanpakuto shattered was not cataclysmic. Toshiro Hitsugaya's degree of affinity with his zanpakuto, however, was far higher than what anyone would call normal. Their recent semi-merger had only intensified this, making the sudden fissure in the Captain's soul even more painful. Clutching his chest and stumbling through the agony, Toshiro collapsed onto the bed and lurched onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with a vacant look on his face. His chest rose and fell as peacefully as if he were just asleep, but anyone with an inkling of spiritual awareness would be able to tell that Hitsugaya had unknowingly subjected himself to the spiritual equivalent of a lobotomy.

* * *

Karin had woken up in the middle of the night with a grumbling stomach. While she was rummaging through the kitchen for a snack, however, she abruptly found her attention pulled away from her stomach and towards another turbulent presence: Toshiro's reiatsu was fluctuating wildly, from distressed to enraged and back again. Ignoring both her instincts and her zanpakuto's warning to stay as far away from the Captain as she could, Kurosaki walked resolutely towards her former soccer teammate's room. When she felt his reiatsu dim like a light bulb burning out after being turned on and off too many times, Karin ran the rest of the way and stopped just short of knocking Toshiro's door down. Sliding it open hesitantly, the dark-eyed Kurosaki took in the scene in front of her and gasped.

His _haori_ was crumpled on the floor, neglected and already losing its sheen. Hyorinmaru lay broken in halves, and the Captain himself seemed to be a black hole, a scar where no reiatsu could be sensed any longer. Karin knew that the white-haired Soul Reaper was too far gone for her to remain a bystander; springing forward into the room, she ignored the pain in her hand as she gripped the fragment of Hyorinmaru and pulled it from the wall. Taking the other piece in her free hand, the dark-eyed Kurosaki sat cross-legged on the floor and put both shards of the broken zanpakuto in her lap. As she placed them tentatively together, a weak voice suddenly echoed in her head.

_Thank you, young one,_ it rasped, _for giving me at least some respite from this agony,_

'What happened to you?' Karin thought in her head, not wanting to risk disturbing Toshiro if he could still somehow hear.

_My master recently… lost the one he loved._ Hyorinmaru forced out, and Raitori huffed.

'Sounds like he needs to get over himself,' she whispered so that only Karin could hear her. 'Love ain't worth putting yourself into a coma, if you ask me.'

'Shut _up_,' Karin hissed back at her zanpakuto's spirit, before returning her attention to the broken blade in her lap.

'Who was the person Toshiro loved?' she asked the tired voice, and Hyorinmaru sighed.

_It is a long, sad story, young warrior,_ he replied. _Come, and I shall tell you the tale._

Karin closed her eyes and drifted into her Spirit World, where she found a lacerated, exhausted Ice Dragon curled up on the ground. The young Kurosaki's heart went out to the wounded spirit, and even Raitori's hard eyes softened at the miserable sight.

"Come, child," the dragon said gently. "Sit by me. My voice is weak, and in my current state I do not wish to overexert myself."

Karin walked over slowly and sat down next to the tired spirit, while Raitori chose to listen from where she was standing. Hyorinmaru drew a rattling breath and began the tale. He started from the first day Toshiro had materialized him, and Karin listened silently, rapt with attention. She told herself she wouldn't interrupt, but when Hyorinmaru got to the point where Toshiro had faced down Aizen all by himself, Kurosaki couldn't help but speak out.

"He really tried to fight Aizen? He risked his life that seriously just to avenge Momo?"

"Without a moment's hesitation," the Dragon affirmed, and Karin could only wonder how someone that resolute and strong could break so easily. Hell, she'd seen Toshiro take down a monster three times taller than her house without breaking a sweat, and now here he was lying impotent on his bed, staring up at the ceiling like a marionette without strings. It just didn't make any sense. Hyorinmaru's voice began again, jolting Kurosaki out of her reverie.

The Dragon continued uninterrupted through the rest of the war with Aizen, and with each new mention of some incredible feat of strength Karin found herself growing more and more incredulous. It was as if the Toshiro she was hearing about and the Toshiro in front of her were two completely different people.

"What on Earth _happened_ to him, Hyorinmaru?"

The spirit let out a sigh, shifting his dull coils restlessly.

"Something terrible, young one," he spoke at last. "Tricked by that devil Kyoka Suigetsu, Toshiro stabbed Momo in the chest and killed her."

Karin could only gape in stunned silence at this last revelation, but surprisingly Raitori picked up the slack for her.

"He did _what_?" she half-shouted. "That's awful." Even Kurosaki's emotionally-warped spirit was pitying the besieged Soul Reaper.

"Indeed, it was heinous," Hyorinmaru agreed. "His grief was so great that he broke down, and with no one to lift him back up into the light he allowed his pain and rage to overwhelm him. It was then that he broke me in two, and slipped into the state you see before you."

"Is there any way to heal him?" Karin asked, her voice bordering on panic.

Hyorinmaru shook his head sadly.

"To heal a soul that has been split apart so savagely, the zanpakuto must be in tune with the injured warrior. But I am broken, and there is no one here with the skills to re-forge a zanpakuto of my caliber."

Karin's brow furrowed into the famous 'Kurosaki Frown' and she stood up, her hands firmly on her hips.

"Bullshit."

Hyorinmaru raised a surprised eyebrow.

"What did you just say, young warrior?"

"I said, '_bullshit_,'" Karin seethed. "There has to be a way to put you back together, and I'm gonna find out what it is. You just shut up and wait here, Mr. Pessimist."

Kurosaki zoomed out of her Spirit World and once again beheld the shattered blade in her lap. She didn't buy the whole gloom-and-doom angle for a second; if something could be broken, it could be put back together, plain and simple. Putting the two pieces of the blade up next to each other again, Karin felt a faint thrum and knew she was on the right track. Now all she needed was something strong enough to force the two halves back together, like spiritual superglue. Something to put enough pressure on them…

Pressure. That was it. How could she not have seen that right away? Closing her eyes, Karin reached out to her zanpakuto.

'You there, Raitori?'

_Nowhere else I would be,_ the voice shot back, and Karin had to bite her tongue to keep from scolding what was essentially herself.

'You know that ability we have, that suppresses my reiatsu?'

_What of it?_

'Can you get rid of it?'

There was a tense pause before Raitori spoke again.

_Why would you want to do that? I don't think you could control the amount of reiatsu you have chained up in here, Karin._

'I don't need to control it,' Kurosaki replied. 'I just need to channel it. But stop stalling; can you do it, or not?'

… _Yes, I can._

Karin smiled.

'Then do it.'

_As you wish._

She felt the wave of reiatsu flood into her with such intensity it was almost suffocating; to go from possessing what felt like no reiatsu to having at least as much raw strength as a Lieutenant was jarring, to put it lightly. But Karin refused to fail. Toshiro had saved her once, and she was obligated to return the favor. Forcing the reiatsu to bend to her will, Kurosaki focused it into the shattered blade before her and held the two halves together tightly, hoping that her sheer willpower would do the trick.

Her strained lips widened into a sharp, victorious smile as the metal of the zanpakuto became slightly liquid at the point of the break and the shards bonded back together into a single blade.

_Impossible,_ said the much deeper, revitalized voice of Hyorinmaru. _To achieve a re-forging such as that with only raw reiatsu… young warrior, you truly are special._

'Yeah, that kind of runs in our family,' she quipped, before turning her full attention to Hitsugaya as the young Soul Reaper sighed and began to tremble. Karin brought Hyorinmaru over to his side immediately and placed the hilt in his hand, while keeping her own hand resting on the blade.

She felt his soul calm instantaneously, but there was still a thick cloud of dark smog hanging over the once-pristine field of ice that had been his Spirit World. Karin felt so close to Toshiro's soul she could feel it beating in time with his heart, and the effect of being so near to so much power could only be described as intoxicating. She wanted to get even closer to it, to feel its warmth like the comforting aura of a fire on Christmas morning, but the damned smog was stopping her.

"Why can't I get through to him?"

"Part of his soul is still in turmoil, and he has not fully reclaimed me into his being," Hyorinmaru explained as he hovered beside her, trying equally hard to break through the smog. After a few moments had passed unsuccessfully, the newly-healed spirit turned to Karin.

"I will try to get through to him," he said. "For now, you should rest. You have done much for him, and I am sure Toshiro will thank you for it when he is ready. Hopefully, it will not take him long to accept me once more."

Karin frowned again, her mind immediately darting to the worst-case scenario.

"What if he doesn't fully accept you, Hyorinmaru?"

"If that happens," the Dragon replied seriously, "you may need to provide Toshiro with a bit of a… push, something to shock him back to his senses."

Karin nodded solemnly and took her leave of the zanpakuto spirit, opening her eyes and looking out of the window to see the beginnings of the sun creeping over the horizon.

"Well, there goes the whole 'sleep' idea," she groused, but the rest of the words in her throat suddenly stilled when her gaze fell upon the white _haori_ in the corner. The wheels began to turn in Kurosaki's brain, and a wicked grin soon spread over her face as she had an idea. Walking over, she picked up the jacket, dusted it off, and put it on. It felt shockingly comfortable for just a piece of fabric, a feeling she could get used to.

Karin hoped for Toshiro's sake that he reclaimed Hyorinmaru fully before he woke up, because he was going to need every ounce of strength and determination he had to wrest his rank back. He had foolishly thrown it aside, after all; it was only right that he be made to struggle before reclaiming it. Walking out of the room with Raitori at her hip and the Tenth Division _haori_ draped over her shoulders, Kurosaki felt so good that she couldn't resist putting a slight spring in her step, wondering what the coming day would bring. Fixing herself a cup of tea, Karin sat down on a mat and began to drink it, listening to the birds greeting the sunshine.

* * *

Matsumoto, Ichimaru, Zaraki, Yachiru, Ichigo, Rukia, Kuukaku Shiba, Byakuya Kuchiki, Neliel, Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, Soi Fon and Urahara had all managed to come in and sit down in the dining room circle without even so much as noticing the progressively more annoyed Karin, who had finished her third cup of tea by now. She was about to throw her hands up in the air and growl in frustration, but then Karin remembered that it was still early in the morning. Most of these lazybones were probably still feeling their way around with reiatsu, like blind bats, and the younger Kurosaki was a blank spot when it came to reiatsu. Because it wasn't like they were purposefully ignoring her, Karin decided to break the ice with tact and coughed loudly into the placid silence.

"Good morning," she drawled, a small smile on her face. Matsumoto was the first to notice what the younger Kurosaki was wearing, and her eyes went wider than the Grand Canyon.

"Is that Captain Hitsugaya's _haori_?" she breathed. When Karin nodded, if it was possible, Rangiku became even more stunned.

"But why are _you_ wearing it, Karin?"

Scrambling to think of something to say, the dark-eyed Kurosaki uttered one of the most awkward phrases she could have possibly picked.

"I… borrowed it, after I was done repairing his zanpakuto last night."

Silence and stillness reigned over the group of Soul Reapers for a tense moment, until Grimmjow broke the atmosphere with a snort.

"So _that_'s what they're calling it these days, huh? I had no idea."

Rangiku looked like she'd just been hit by lightning. Surely, Karin and her Captain hadn't…

"Karin," she said as calmly as she could, "you and the Captain, last night… did you, you know…?"

It took Karin a moment to understand the implication buried in the question, but once she had her eyes snapped open at the same that she blushed fiercely and her mouth opened slightly.

"What!?" she half-shouted in mortification. "No! Toshiro and I didn't—"

"Oh, so it's 'Toshiro' now, is it?" Gin teased, and Karin's blush deepened from red to a bright crimson.

"My Captain has finally become a man!" Rangiku declared exuberantly, and the dark-eyed Kurosaki wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Before the crowd had a chance to give Karin even more of a hard time, they were distracted by the arrival of one Saika Aron. On one hand, the younger Kurosaki was glad to have attention directed anywhere other than her at that moment, but she also hadn't been given a chance to refute the idea that she and Toshiro had… it was too awkward to even think about.

_Then again,_ Raitori mused, _I wouldn't mind going back into his room and crawling into…_

'SHUT UP!' Karin thought at her inner spirit furiously, trying to keep her tenuous hold on her emotions.

For the other Soul Reapers present, it would have taken something either earth-shakingly shocking or utterly bizarre to tear their attention away from Karin's apparent tryst with Toshiro.

Saika's entrance was definitely in the bizarre category. Not only was he grinning like Nnoitra on crack, he was practically skipping and humming something that sounded suspiciously like 'Oh, What A Beautiful Morning' from _Oklahoma_. He helped himself to some food and sat down between Soi Fon and the empty space reserved for Yoruichi before beginning to eat, but the smile never left his face. Ulquiorra surprised everyone by breaking the awkward silence, a single eyebrow raised to highlight his weirded-out state of mind.

"You're awfully chipper this morning, Aron-sama," he said. "Any reason why?"

The demon prince just shrugged, but his grin changed from ecstatic to enigmatic.

"That's a surprise," he said mischievously, but before anyone could press him any further Yoruichi walked in and the room fell into an awed silence.

There was no debating that the Shihoin princess was attractive, but from the way the light of the dawn accentuated the glow that seemed to permeate from her to the way her eyes shone as brightly as anyone had ever seen them, the only word to even _approach_ how she appeared in this moment was radiant. She walked over to where her seat was and sat down gently, all the while carrying herself with the poise of Aphrodite. Yoruichi seemed to feel the burning curiosity directed her way despite the haze of happiness that enveloped her, and she smiled.

"I'm expecting," she said, and for a few heartbeats even the birds outside stopped singing.

"That's wonderful!" Rukia exclaimed, breaking the moment of silence. "Congratulations!"

More congratulations and reactions ranging from shock to terror ensued; terror on the part of Byakuya Kuchiki as he imagined any offspring the couple might produce possessing Saika's power and Yoruichi's infuriating impish streak. Neliel gave Ulquiorra a wholly unsubtle look that made his blood run hot and a chill lance up his spine at the same time, a combination of sensations he found completely foreign and oddly thrilling. Ichigo whispered something into Rukia's ear that made her face turn a color closely resembling burgundy, and her brother's reiatsu spiked for a moment before Kuukaku whacked the older Kuchiki on the arm and shot him a surprisingly disarming grin.

The atmosphere in the room had become one of joy at the prospect of a new beginning, the darkness of the past few days almost forgotten in these few fleeting moments. In the calm quiet that followed, Karin decided to take a stab at clearing her name. Before she could get a word in, though, a surge of reiatsu came rushing out from Hitsugaya's room, accompanied by an equally forceful shout from the white-haired prodigy.

"KUROSAKI!"

Everyone stared at Karin and she got up, a grim look on her face.

"If that idiot wants this back," she growled, gesturing to the _haori_ she was still wearing, "I'll be outside."

With that the dark-eyed Kurosaki flashed away, leaving a very confused group of Soul Reapers in her wake. Their condition didn't improve much when Toshiro came storming into the room, rage smoldering in his eyes and Hyorinmaru unsheathed. The more observant members of the crowd noticed that the young Captain's zanpakuto was much duller than normal, but they dared not mention it while Hitsugaya was in such a precarious mental state.

"Where the hell is she?" he growled, and before Ichigo could jump up to defend his sibling, Ukitake had pointed out towards the back. When the orange-haired Soul Reaper shot a murderous glance at Jushiro, the wise Soul Reaper met his gaze and held it.

"Whatever is going on between them, Ichigo," he said, "be it a simple lover's quarrel or something much more serious, it is their issue to deal with. Not yours."

Ichigo wanted to argue, but Rukia put a hand on his shoulder and he calmed himself instantly. Still, he couldn't help but worry.

_Karin, what have you gotten yourself into?

* * *

_

The two Soul Reapers stared each other down across the field, and it was Toshiro who spoke first.

"Give me back my _haori_, Karin."

The dark-eyed Soul Reaper shot back a defiant glare.

"I don't think so, _Toshiro_," she spat, drawing out his name for added bite.

Hitsugaya's hypnotically green eyes darkened.

"That's Captain Hitsugaya to you, rookie."

Kurosaki smiled viciously; he had played right into her hands, and now the game could really begin.

"Really?" she asked with forced innocence. "Because it seems to me like you threw that title away, along with your zanpakuto. I gave Hyorinmaru back to you to make this fair," she continued, all innocence in her voice replaced by steel, "but if you want your _haori_ back, you're going to have to take it from me."

Toshiro gave a battle cry and charged, readying his sword to strike. Karin sighed, seeing the blow coming from a mile away; had he really become so weak?

Hitsugaya was caught off-guard when his opponent vanished, only to have an elbow collide sharply with his gut a moment later and knock the wind out of him. He struggled to stay on his feet, and lashed out blindly with his sword. Kurosaki parried the blow like she was swatting a fly, and slammed Raitori's hilt into Toshiro's sternum. Wrenching Hyorinmaru from his hands as he fell, Karin watched the young Captain tumble to the ground with equal parts sadness and pity. But now wasn't the time or place for either of those emotions; he needed a good, swift kick in the ass, and Karin was going to be its administrator.

"Pathetic," she spat, hoping her taunt didn't sound hollow. "Get up, Toshiro."

Still reeling from Karin's surprisingly effective assault and now stripped of his zanpakuto, Hitsugaya stared up at the sky and wished it would just fall on him. She was right; he was pathetic. What right did he have to call himself a Captain? Staggering to his feet, Toshiro slumped forward slightly and spoke.

"Keep it," he muttered bitterly, and Karin's eyes widened in shock before narrowing in rage. This wasn't an act anymore; she was actually getting mad.

"What?"

"You're right," Hitsugaya sighed, "you're right. I don't deserve to wear that," he said bitterly, gesturing roughly at the white garment over Karin's shoulders.

"Keep it."

Toshiro was expecting a number of reactions from the dark-eyed Kurosaki, but definitely not the one he got. Suddenly the front of his kimono was being held hostage in an iron grip, and he found himself inches from Karin's angry face. Her eyes burned with barely-withheld tears and searing disappointment.

"What _happened to you_?!" She screamed, shaking him furiously. "Where's the Captain who faced down Aizen Sosuke without the hope of backup to avenge his friend? What happened to the warrior that saved me from that Menos single-handedly? Answer me, damn you! Where is your pride?"

Hitsugaya's eyes widened in shock and more than a little bit of fear, but after a heartbeat or two he had encased himself once again inside a shell of self pity, grabbing Karin's hand and shoving it away.

"The Toshiro you knew is dead, and his pride is buried with him," he spat, turning around and beginning to walk away. Karin wanted to inflict all sorts of egregious bodily harm on her friend, but she could only muster the coherence through her anger to shout at him.

"Where are you going?"

"Away," was the tired response, and Kurosaki could feel the Captain getting ready to flash-step.

Something inside of her aching chest snapped in that moment and she fiercely snatched up Hyorinmaru, holding it like a javelin. She wasn't going to let him go, not after what she had done for him and he for her. Hurling the zanpakuto through the air, Karin allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as it buried its sheath in the ground, hilt pointing to the sky and waiting to be drawn. Hitsugaya stopped when he heard the thud and turned to look at his zanpakuto. The dark-eyed Kurosaki knew she only had a few moments to convince him to stay, and she was going to take advantage of them.

"Listen to me, Toshiro," she said, with gravity that reminded Hitsugaya of the late Captain-Commander, "you have a choice to make. You could turn your back on your zanpakuto and all it represents, shut out everyone who cares about you and leave them behind forever. Or, you could stop drowning in self-pity, draw your sword and show me you're worthy of being a Captain! What's it gonna be, Toshiro?" she finished, the challenge ringing in her voice with every word as an anticipatory grin crossed her face.

Hitsugaya stopped cold when he heard those words, and he paused to gauge the strength of Hyorinmaru. It was pulsing incredibly faintly, calling out to its master to put aside his anguish. Toshiro now saw all too clearly how his state of mind was gradually crushing his heart and soul. What would Momo have said?

No sooner had that thought passed through his head that a gentle breeze blew through the field, and Toshiro could swear he heard a whisper reach out to him.

_Live, Shiro-chan,_ it said gently. _Live, and be happy._

The green-eyed Captain gave a bittersweet smile at those words, and was like the calming wind reached inside his soul and swept away the miasma clouding his Spirit World. Feeling strength rush back into him like an avalanche, Hitsugaya reached down and grabbed the hilt of his zanpakuto. At once he felt complete again, and dipped his head slightly in shame.

'Forgive me, my friend,' he said, but all he got back in reply was a chuckle.

_You don't have to ask forgiveness from me, Toshiro. Now, I believe we have a _haori _to reclaim, no?_

Hitsugaya's grim face split into a smile, and he tightened his grip on Hyorinmaru.

'Yeah,' he answered, 'I think we do.'

With that, he vanished from sight.

Karin had felt her heart swell when she saw Toshiro draw his zanpakuto and felt his reiatsu rise, but she was mentally smacked upside the head by Raitori and refocused herself just in time to feel his reiatsu emerge right behind her. She drew her zanpakuto and barely blocked the strike, her pulse speeding up as she felt Hyorinmaru grating against her own zanpakuto.

"You sneaky bastard," she said with a smirk in her voice, but all humor was quickly driven from her mind and replaced with something completely different when she felt Toshiro's breath against her ear.

"I think you have something that belongs to me, Karin," he whispered in a tone that made her knees buckle, but by some small miracle she remained upright.

"Come and get it, kid," she said, and flashed a short distance away to assume her stance. Toshiro's white eyebrows furrowed in anger.

"Who're you calling a kid?" he growled, but Karin just stuck her tongue out at him. Even angrier now, Hitsugaya resumed the offensive and charged.

Karin had expected that keeping up with the Captain's strikes would be a challenge, but for some reason it was easier fighting him than it had ever been sparring against Ichimaru-sensei. Come to think of it, it was almost like she could feel where the strikes were coming from before they were even made…

Wait a second, that actually made sense. When she had re-forged Toshiro's zanpakuto, she had used her raw reiatsu. It would make sense that some of her reiatsu would be imprinted upon the sword, and that was why she could sense its movements so easily. Grinning, Karin decided to see if she could get Toshiro even more pissed off and closed her eyes. Sure enough, she could still sense his incoming strikes as plainly as day. This was gonna be fun.

Hitsugaya saw Karin close her eyes and prepared for some kind of power surge, but when it didn't come he became aware of a much more sinister fact: he was being toyed with. By _Karin_.

"Stop screwing around, Kurosaki!" he shouted, and swung his zanpakuto with even more force, only to have it evaded once again.

"Why don't you try hitting me for once, Toshiro?" she taunted back. "I haven't even released my zanpakuto yet!"

The Captain broke away from the current exchange of strikes and landed some distance away, raw reiatsu turning his eyes blue with righteous fury.

"Try dodging this, Kurosaki! Sit upon the frozen heavens, Hyorinmaru!"

Karin opened her dark eyes and smiled at the sight of the massive dragon above her, so much more majestic than the broken one she had first met.

"_I give you my thanks, child, for your strength,_" the dragon hissed, "_but my debt to you will not dull my fangs. Prepare yourself, Karin!_"

Her smile turned into a battle-hungry grin.

"Flash, Raitori! _Kuro Shiden_!"

The arc of black lightning shot up towards the flying serpent, but he dodged it at the last moment.

"_Impressive, child,_" it conceded, "_but not enough!_"

Even as the dragon swooped down upon Karin, her smirk remained unmoved.

"You ever hear the old saying about 'What goes around,' Hyorinmaru?"

Not giving her enemy a chance to intuit what she meant, Kurosaki swung down her zanpakuto. She then watched in satisfaction as the bolt of black lighting mirrored the motion, turning around and arcing down at the dragon. Hyorinmaru had no time to react, and was soon writhing as the electricity lanced though him. Scrounging together the last of his strength, the ice dragon sent a desperate blast of energy roaring towards Karin, disintegrating immediately afterwards. Kurosaki saw the fearsome orb of reiatsu approaching her and paled.

"Oh, shit."

Unleashing her reiatsu and throwing it up around her in a massive wall, Karin hoped that her defensive measure would hold out. She was still alive a few seconds later, so she guessed she had succeeded. At the same time, though, the dark-eyed Kurosaki felt utterly drained. Casting a weary glance over at Toshiro, she could see that he wasn't any better off. Still, despite her aching muscles and bleeding cuts Karin felt herself smile widely as she approached the young Soul Reaper and took off the _haori_ she had been wearing.

"Here," she said, holding it out to Toshiro. "You earned it."

"Gee, thanks," he replied sarcastically, but with a smile on his face as he accepted the garment, draping it over his own shoulders and sighing.

"So, let me get this straight," he said after a moment of peaceful quiet. "You took my broken zanpakuto and put it back together with just your reiatsu?"

"Yeah. So?"

Hitsugaya's eyes widened.

"What do you mean, 'so'? My zanpakuto is part of my _soul_, Karin, just like Raitori is part of yours. And if you used some of your spiritual energy to fix my soul, that means…"

"If I die, so does your soul," she finished, and the enormity of what Karin's seemingly simple act had done hit them like a sledgehammer. The two of them were now inextricably bonded, for better or worse.

"This is giving me a headache," Hitsugaya groused, and he began to walk towards the house, only to be stopped by Karin's hand gripping his bicep.

"You don't want to go in there," she said hastily, blushing.

"Why not?" Toshiro asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. Karin thought about whether or not to tell him the truth, but then realized that he would probably be able to tell if she was lying.

"Well, you see, I had to make up a lie to cover for why I had your _haori_ on this morning, and now the other Soul Reapers think we… well, you know," she sputtered, not wanting to say it. But Hitsugaya wasn't about to let her off of the hook.

"No, I don't know," he replied. What do they think?"

"They think we had sex!" she blurted out, and Toshiro blushed so fiercely he looked like a beet.

_A really cute one…_ Raitori chimed in, and Karin promptly shushed her.

"Regardless of what they think," the Captain said, with a slight tremble in his voice as he tried not to notice all of the ways Karin's body had developed since he had last seen her, "there's no other way into the house except for the front door, and I am not about to trudge down all of those stairs again like this. Come on, Karin."

Kurosaki barely had time to think of a protestation before her hand had been taken firmly in Toshiro's strong, but warm grip. Karin drew strength from his determination and the two of them walked back into the house, with Hitsugaya leading the way and Kurosaki behind him. As they entered the main room, the pair ignored the wolf-whistles and cat-calls Ikkaku and Yumichka gave them, along with a few flagrantly inappropriate remarks courtesy of one Rangiku Matsumoto. As they made their way back into Toshiro's room, the two of them felt exhaustion hit at the same time. Too tired to do anything other than sleep, Hitsugaya and Kurosaki flopped onto the bed and promptly passed out, with their hands still clasped together.

* * *

Back in the main room, Zaraki coughed loudly to get the group's attention.

"Well, all this excitement has me hankering for a fight. You up to go down, Byakuya?"

The assembled Soul Reapers turned their focus to the stoic noble, who was calmly sipping his tea. The tension was so thick it was almost visible, and it stayed that way until Byakuya put down his cup and cleared his throat.

"If you truly desire to be thoroughly humiliated before your peers, Captain Zaraki," he intoned smoothly, "I would be more than happy to oblige you."

Kenpachi laughed heartily and the two warriors picked up their zanpakuto, walking out to the field that had been a battleground just moments ago. This time, the other Soul Reapers followed them.

This was going to be one hell of a fight.

* * *

**Author's Note:** First up, it's my _Birthday _on Friday, so it would be awesome if you guys could give me a present… in the form of a review! Good times. Second, I'm sorry I couldn't get to the Zaraki/Byakuya fight; the Hitsu/Karin scene took up way more space than I thought it would, so the two Captains will have to duke it out next time. I hope this chapter wasn't too slow, and that the character interaction scenes made up for the less-frenetic pacing this time around. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it (I've been sitting on that HitsuxKarin stuff since I started writing this story), and I hope to see you around next chapter!


	17. Separation Anxiety

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own this story, its OCs, etc.

**Mini A/N:** A heartfelt **Thank You** goes out to everyone who regularly reviews this story, or has reviewed it in the past; I'm over the 80-review mark right now, which is amazing. I'm shooting for 100 by the time this fic is over… please help the cause and give me some feedback!

* * *

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 17**: Separation Anxiety

* * *

The two of them couldn't have been more opposite; one was taciturn, serious and took everything he did with the gravity of someone performing their last deed on Earth. The other was a blood-hungry force of nature, like a wolf that had been chained up and muzzled for years only to be set free, at last, on a flock of completely unsuspecting sheep. Always seeking out stronger and stronger opponents, he would fight until he could fight no longer, and then get back up and fight some more for the hell of it.

But for all of the differences between Byakuya Kuchiki and Zaraki Kenpachi, right now they had one very important thing in common:

They both wanted nothing more than to carve each other up into little pieces.

Zaraki stared down his opponent's passive face and laughed.

"I can tell you aren't even tapping into your new power, Kuchiki," he growled. "Do you honestly expect to stand a chance against me without unleashing your Hollow?"

Byakuya's facial expression did not change in the slightest, but the fire in his eyes deepened from simmering hatred to smoldering rage.

"Your arrogance is peerless, Zaraki," he said evenly, "if you think even for a moment that I would have to use that power to put down a rabid dog."

Kenpachi's growl turned into a deep, bone-rumbling laugh.

"I haven't heard that kind of talk from you in ages, Kuchiki," he shot back. "Seems like your little friend has more control than you think."

The Sixth Division Captain's eyes narrowed murderously, and he readied Senbonsakura.

"That's more like it," Zaraki said, his one visible eye glowing with bloodlust. Lifting his own zanpakuto, the Eleventh Division Captain charged and brought down his blade. The resulting explosion of reiatsu was probably felt all the way back in what had used to be the Seireitei, and the duel had officially begun. The two fighting styles were like night and day; while Kenpachi attacked like a lumberjack trying to cut down a redwood with a dull axe, Byakuya might as well have been a river, given the effortlessly natural ebb and flow of his movements. He was grace personified, but the question was whether or not finesse stood a chance in the face of raw, unadulterated power.

Seeing that his strikes weren't even making a dent in Zaraki's guard, Kuchiki decided to throw honor to the wind and began to use his flash-steps, hoping that his enemy's lack of the ability would tip the scales in his favor. Every time he tried to strike, however, Senbonsakura always met the Kenpachi's zanpakuto with a metallic clang.

"Stop pussyfooting around and fight me, damn it!" Zaraki shouted, spinning and blocking an attempted _senka_ head-on before carving a gash across Byakuya's chest. The Vizard jumped backwards, his blood dripping onto the ground.

"You bastard…" he hissed. "How did you block my _senka_?"

The Eleventh Division Captain just smirked at the question.

"You'd be surprised how much being synchronized with your zanpakuto increases your awareness," he replied. "Even if I can't use that flash-step crap, I can still see you move like you were walking. If you don't release your full power soon, Kuchiki, I might just kill you and be done with it. I have no interest in fighting boring opponents."

Byakuya said nothing, still gasping in breath and trying to see through the slight fog that had seeped into his vision. Fury dominated his soul, but the sliver of fear that sat in the corner was becoming bigger and bigger by the second. Not only had Kenpachi Zaraki become much, much more powerful since the invasion of Seireitei, the spiky-haired Captain hadn't even taken off his eyepatch and he was still thrashing him like it was nothing. Gritting his teeth, Byakuya was about to release Senbonsakura when a scathing, steely voice spoke out in his head.

_That will not suffice, and you know it. Release me, or you will die here._

As much as he hated agreeing with his Inner Hollow, the beast had a point. Byakuya had put his pride on the line, and he would be damned if someone like Zaraki was going to strip him of it. Closing his eyes, Kuchiki felt the warped strength flow through his veins and a twisted, very un-Byakuya-like smirk formed on his face as the white wreath began to form on his head.

Kenpachi saw the change in his opponent and smiled; finally, they were going to start having some real fun. His zanpakuto screamed for complete release, but Zaraki willed it into silence. He had promised himself that Muramasa's full power would only be brought to bear on those who deserved it, and he planned on sticking by that promise. After all, where was the fun in torching an ant with a flamethrower? When Byakuya opened his eyes, now a darkly burnished gold, and the full force of his twisted reiatsu slammed into Kenpachi like a concrete wall, the Captain let out a maniacal burst of laughter.

"_Now _we're talking, Kuchiki!" he shouted. "Come on, I'm falling asleep over here!"

Byakuya let out a dark chuckle and vanished from sight. The next thing Zaraki felt was a searing pain lancing across his chest, and he looked up to find his enemy right in front of him.

"_We're even_," Kuchiki growled, before thrusting forward with his zanpakuto. Kenpachi threw himself backwards at the last possible moment, narrowly avoiding being turned into a Shish Kabob. Before he even had a chance to ready his stance, Zaraki was assaulted by a flurry of mercilessly rapid slashes.

"_Are you beginning to regret your foolishness?_" Byakuya hissed in that unearthly voice bestowed upon all Vizards, and Kenpachi felt a genuine smile split his face. This fight was going to be even more fun than his brawl with Nnoitra way back when. Pulling himself together, the warrior blocked Byakuya's next strike and pushed back with every ounce of power he hadn't sealed away.

"Regret?" he asked incredulously. "Are you serious? Life's too short for that crap. I'm just starting to have fun!"

Zaraki shoved his opponent away, using the few precious seconds to catch his breath. To everyone's shock, Byakuya began to laugh.

"_Tiring already, Kenpachi?_" he asked, and Yoruichi couldn't help but me reminded of the brash youngster she had played tag with all of those decades ago. It was like his Hollow dragged all of his repressed aggression to the forefront, and the result was frightening.

"_Such disgraceful fatigue is unbecoming. If you want to rest that badly, why don't we just put you to sleep permanently?_"

Zaraki was expecting his enemy to charge, so he arched a curious eyebrow when all Byakuya did was raise his palm up and point it towards his foe. As an orb of dark energy began to form in front of the hand, though, Kenpachi's curiosity was quickly replaced by a sharp spike of shock.

"Shit!"

The _cero_ ripped through the air like a bullet train and completely engulfed the berserker Captain, and even the three former Arrancar were surprised by the raw, almost animalistic power of the newborn Vizard's attack. For his Hollow energies to already be so powerful was almost unheard of, the first true hint into how much raw strength Byakuya Kuchiki kept locked behind his impassive gray eyes. As the burst of negative energy dissipated, Byakuya let out a light chuckle.

"_You still managed to maintain a human shape_," he mused. "_Impressive_."

Zaraki heaved in a breath that felt like flame rushing into his lungs and spat up black blood.

"Don't fuck with me, Kuchiki," he growled, reaching a burned hand up to his tattered eyepatch and tearing it off completely. The surge of reiatsu was titanic, to say the least, and the helix-shaped aura that so few had seen without dying shortly afterwards once again rose into the sky.

"If you honestly believed for a second that one _cero _was going to bring me down, you're dumber than I thought."

The Vizard just laughed.

"_Why would I want to bring you down so soon?_" Byakuya hissed. "_I'm just starting to enjoy this!_" Running towards his foe with Senbonsakura ready to strike, the Vizard's dark golden eyes flashed like lightning.

"_Prepare yourself, Kenpachi!_"

The two zanpakuto clashed once again, and the observing Soul Reapers couldn't help but wonder why a whole horde of Menos Grande hadn't been drawn to all of this reiatsu like moths to a flame. As the fight wore on, Zaraki noticed that his opponent's breathing was becoming labored and he smirked.

"It's a shame you're at your limit, Kuchiki," he taunted, bringing a down a powerful strike that Byakuya barely blocked. "This was just starting to get really good!"

The Vizard growled and jumped away from the deadlock, gasping for air as the injuries he was accumulating began to make their presence felt. Damn it, if only he had more control, he wouldn't be feeling any pain...

"Now who's fatigued, you bastard?" the Eleventh Division Captain asked with a murderous grin. "You might talk a big game, but underneath those freakish eyes of yours you're softer than Hanataro!"

The Fourth Division Soul Reaper bristled on the sidelines at that comment, but said nothing.

Kuchiki glared at his enemy with a look that could slice through diamond, infuriated by this fresh assault on his pride. Soft, was he? How dare that dog even presume to belittle his power so casually. If he wanted to die so badly, the Vizard thought, he would be more than happy to erase him from existence. Holding his zanpakuto in front of him horizontally, Byakuya put his hand at the base of the blade and dragged it across all the way to the tip. Kuukaku winced involuntarily as she saw the blood run down the blade, wondering why he would cripple himself like that in the middle of a fight. She would get her answer soon enough.

"_They say a Vizard's soul is more evolved than that of a normal Soul Reaper,_" Byakuya spoke, "_and that a zanpakuto is the incarnation of the soul itself. If that is so, then it would only make sense that a Vizard's _shikai_ and _ bankai_ would evolve as well_."

Ichigo nodded in agreement, remembering just how much more powerful his Getsuga Tensho had become in his Vizard state. The orange-haired Soul Reaper's introspection was cut off, however, when the elder Kuchiki began to speak again.

"_Let me show you how my _bankai _has evolved, Zaraki. If you are strong enough, perhaps you will be able to withstand a scintilla of its power before you are annihilated._"

With that, Byakuya turned Senbonsakura downwards and let go of the hilt, the blood on its blade transforming into an aura of the same dark energy that had composed his _cero_ earlier.

"Bankai: _Nibai Senbonsakura Kageyoshi_."

Saika's eye went wide in shock.

"Did he just say what I thought he said?" he asked the golden-eyed princess standing next to him, and Yoruichi nodded slowly.

"Yes, he did. This, I can't wait to see."

As the blade disappeared into the ground, rows of blades began to rise in its place. Instead of the normal two, however, a full four rows of blades stood tall and deadly in the open field. The strength of Byakuya Kuchiki's _bankai_ had effectively doubled.

"_Scatter._"

The columns of blades shattered like so many panes of glass, and for a moment Byakuya was almost completely surrounded by a huge cloud of fluttering pink shards. When he extended his hands and spoke, however, the true form of his evolved _bankai_ was revealed.

"_Surge_."

The nebula of blades condensed into three tornadoes that rushed the stunned Eleventh Division Captain, breaking away at the last moment to take up position around him in a triangle formation. Smirking, Byakuya spoke again.

"_Storm_."

The tornadoes began to spit out the katana that were the signature of Byakuya's _Senkei_ form, and Zaraki found himself fending off attacks from every direction as the rain of blades threatened to overwhelm him completely. As a sword pierced Kenpachi's leg and lodged itself in the ground, immobilizing him, Kuchiki saw his chance and smirked. Closing his open hand into a fist, the Vizard triggered the final stage of his _bankai_.

"_Slaughter_."

The rain of swords ceased, and the tornadoes closed the gap between themselves and their hapless prey. When they were close enough, the three cyclones collapsed in unison on top of Zaraki in a dome of blades that pressed further and further in with each passing moment. On the sidelines, Gin Ichimaru got over his shock at this display of power long enough to speak.

"Well, I'm certainly glad that I'm not the one marrying his sister," he said, and Ichigo swallowed fearfully.

The orange-haired had no doubts about his own power, but there was no denying that even if Byakuya's fearsome _bankai_ wouldn't kill him, it would still hurt like hell. Making a mental note to never piss Rukia's older brother off again, Ichigo was about to give the victory to Byakuya when the dome of blades was unexpectedly broken apart by an unbelievably powerful blast of yellow reiatsu. When the smoke cleared, Kenpachi Zaraki stood there with his hair slicked back and his bells nowhere to be seen, his lacerated body at odds with the huge grin on his face.

"Holy shit, that was intense!" he shouted, laughing. "You almost had me for a moment there, Kuchiki! I'll give you this much: that is one ridiculous _bankai_!"

Byakuya was as stunned by this turn as the rest of the Soul Reapers, and rasped out a single word.

"_How?_"

To the surprise of the Vizard, it was not Zaraki that answered him. Rather, a second man stepped out from behind the Captain, dressed in a flowing black cloak and holding the sharpest katana Byakuya had ever seen. His eyes were pure black orbs, and his mouth widened in a vicious smile. When he spoke, the man's voice was like the footsteps of a marauder that trails behind you in the night, waiting to pounce and jam a knife into your heart.

"Come, Captain," he said with mocking condescension, "surely you didn't think you were the only one here who possessed a _bankai_."

Kuchiki was incredulous, much like had been when faced for he first time with Ichigo Kurosaki's Tensa Zangetsu. Surely, this forced Spiritual Materialization was not a _bankai_.

"_So, you managed to pull your zanpakuto's spirit into the tangible realm,_" he said, with mocking respect. "_Congratulations. But that is by no means a _bankai_, Zaraki_."

The warrior's eyes just gleamed yellow with the intensity of his reiatsu, his grin still firmly in place.

"Do you think that's what he is, Kuchiki?" he asked. "The physical incarnation of my zanpakuto? Close, but not quite. This guy here," he continued, jabbing a thumb at the form standing next to him, "is the full extent of my killing intent given form. Essentially, this crazy bastard is my evil twin."

Byakuya gave a snort of derision, his golden eyes condescending.

"_So you've split your power in two? That's just moronic._"

Kenpachi chuckled.

"Why would I do something like that?"

The Eleventh Division Captain promptly demonstrated that his monstrous reiatsu hadn't diminished in the slightest, and while his doppelganger didn't possess as much raw reiatsu as its master, it was much more refined, and much more deadly.

Essentially, Byakuya Kuchiki now found himself facing two Captains rather than one, and the balance of power in the duel had taken another unexpected shift. Determined not to let it stay that way for long, the beleaguered Vizard pulled his final, most desperate ace out of its hole.

"_Nibai Shukei: Hakuteiken._"

The pink petals that had been strewn about like wilted blossoms by Zaraki's _bankai_ release rushed back to their master, changing form into thin, almost airy tendrils of spiritual energy before exploding in a blinding pillar of white light. When it cleared, Byakuya was holding not one, but two pure white swords, the pair of wings on his back flexing powerfully. As he readied both swords to attack, the Vizard noble silently thanked his grandfather for pushing him to learn how to fight with two blades at once. It was a skill he never thought he would have to use; the inelegance of the style rankled with him, but as the old man had said, sometimes you just never knew what could, or would, happen.

Zaraki and his doppelganger readied themselves for a fight that was going to be anything but easy, and charged.

The Soul Reapers on the sidelines watched in awed and slightly fearful silence as the three combatants clashed at the peak of their powers. Byakuya fought like a man possessed, wielding the pair of blades like extensions of his arms and moving so fast that at times he was a blur, even without using flash-step energy to augment his strikes. Zaraki and his _bankai_ gave as good as they got, though, and it was clear to the entire crowd that none of these fighters were going to stop until they could no longer move their bodies to attack.

When an exchange of blows ended with one of Byakuya's blades at each of his enemy's throats at the same time their swords were insistently pressing against his own neck, all three warriors knew that the end had arrived. Giving his rival a surprisingly jovial smile considering that they'd been trying to kill each other most of the morning, Zaraki shrugged.

"Draw?" he said, and Byakuya gave the slightest of nods as his wreath melted back into the air.

"For now," the Vizard answered, and the doppelganger laughed.

"Sounds good," he hissed before rejoining Muramasa, Kenpachi's zanpakuto, which was then sheathed. As the two Soul Reapers walked almost companionably back towards the ranks of their comrades, Ukitake broke the exhausted silence.

"Well, now that all of that is done with, we need to start thinking about what our next move is going to be."

The casual air that had settled in while the Soul Reapers had watched their Captains brawl was dispelled instantly, and the crowd of exiles trudged wearily inside. On her way in, Yoruichi glanced around and noticed one prominent absence.

"Where's Kisuke?"

Nanao shrugged.

"He said he was going for a walk earlier. Not much of a spectator, that one."

The Shihoin princess nodded slowly, a part of her wondering what there was to see in a blasted wasteland. Then again, maybe he'd gone to revisit his old laboratory, feeling a need to connect with something familiar after having everything taken away so suddenly.

As the group of Soul Reapers congregated and began to delegate duties amongst each other, Yoruichi was blissfully ignorant of the fact that she couldn't have been more wrong about her best friend's destination, or his state of mind.

* * *

At times like these, Kisuke Urahara despised those pesky things called emotions. One of the major benefits of being a scientist was that the volatile pests had never played that much of a role in his day-to-day life, and he had almost never had to deal with the conflict they could so capriciously stir up within his soul. But then that orphaned half-demon had dropped out of the middle of nowhere and Urahara's emotional restraint on its head. Suddenly it was like he barely even knew his best friend anymore, and that upset his analytical, calculating mind almost as much as it messed with his heart. To be honest, he had never been exactly sure how he felt about Yoruichi. If he knew one thing, though, it was that going from her confidant to a glorified third wheel in a matter of weeks had stung him deeply.

Oh, sure, she still came to talk with him on occasion, but that was the thing: it was only on occasion. Her new Lieutenant seemed to have an almost unnerving amount of resonance with Yoruichi, and while Kisuke was glad that the princess had apparently found her prince, it had still cost him a few nights of sleep. He didn't how much he'd invented in that interval, but it had been quite a lot. His manic state of mind had pushed him incredibly hard to forget the smoldering hole in the back of his heart, to the point when nights became days and days became nights. Even _Hiyori_ had been concerned for him at one point, which had never happened before or since. In fact, the Hougyoku, his greatest triumph and greatest failure, had been forged during this period of uncertain emotional turmoil.

Urahara's most tumultuous moment came months later, when a tear-stricken Yoruichi had launched herself into his arms and bawled like she wanted her life to ebb away with her tears. That was the day Saika had left her, and she had come to him seeking sympathy; as much as it broke what was left of his heart, though, Kisuke couldn't muster a shred of it. So he had played the strong, silent game, hoping fervently that the emotion he had locked deep within himself didn't emerge:

Relief. More than that, he had felt pure, old-fashioned schadenfreude. He knew it was selfish, and he felt horrible, but he was also an emotional being as much as he tried to deny it, and with emotions came the darker sides of feeling as well as the lighter aspects. Now, just maybe, he could attempt to sort out just where he stood with his long-time friend.

And then Aizen had to come along and fuck the whole thing up. Right when he was about to lay all of his cards on the table, that sociopath of a Soul Reaper had gotten Kisuke exiled. Having to see Yoruichi every day was bad, but being faced with the prospect of never seeing her again was even worse. What would he do without her? That was a question not even the smartest man in the Thirteen Divisions could answer. But his salvation had flown into the courtroom that day on ebony wings, and while Urahara still faced exile, at least she had allowed him to retain his powers. Yoruichi had done so much for him without ever asking anything in return, and it never ceased to amaze the soon-to-be-former Captain. In that moment, standing between her and the Senkaimon that would change everything, he finally felt brave enough to blurt out how he felt like a total idiot…

Until he looked deep into her golden eyes and saw the pain from losing Saika still lingering within them, the scar tissue across her heart that would never heal. His words stuck in his throat, and for a fleeting moment Kisuke seriously considered marching back into Central 46's chambers, completing the trial and asking them to just throw him deep into the Maggot's Nest for good measure, because he had no reason to be free. But then he thought of what that would do to the already damaged princess and shoved those thoughts aside, soldiering through the Gate with a single word of goodbye that was too short to shove in all of the emotions he wanted, _needed_ it to contain.

The Human World hadn't been too bad, though, and Kisuke had even seen Yoruichi healing right before his eyes from the scars Aron had left in his passing. The shine had come back into her eyes, and the vibrant glow that had been so sorely missed returned slowly but surely over time. After Aizen's fall Urahara had even been welcomed back into Soul Society, and it seemed like, against all odds, he would finally have a chance to spill his guts to her after god-only-knew how many years.

And then, of course, fate had decided to bury him under six feet of shit and dance on his impromptu grave. Saika came swooping back into her life, and it was like he had never left to begin with. Now, it wasn't that the demon prince wasn't a nice guy, but there were times when Kisuke wanted nothing more than to rip the blood from his veins. Still, the Twelfth Division Captain had selfishly held onto the thinnest thread of hope that maybe, someday, Aron would ascend to the throne in Hell, leave the Shihoin princess behind and Urahara could finally get all of his pent-up emotion off of his chest. But then even that shred of optimism had been stomped out this morning with Yoruichi's surprise announcement, and Kisuke felt exactly like Sisyphus: always rolling the boulder up the hill, only to have it come rolling down back to the bottom every time just shy of the peak.

In that moment, behind his happy smile and words of congratulations, Kisuke Urahara had wanted to kill something more than he ever had in his life. Which had led him here, to the Human World, where a trio of the unluckiest Menos ever had just been completely obliterated from existence by an excessively wrathful Benihime. Kisuke wasn't even sure if there had been enough of them left to make it to Soul Society, but he didn't give a shit at this point. Figuring he had earned his keep for the day, Urahara had gone to the nearest bar and was now pounding back what had to have been his fourth shot in ten minutes, wanting everything to just go away. He was so focused on not focusing on anything that Kisuke didn't feel the powerful presence sit down next to him, and he had no idea who it even was until someone said his name and he looked over, only to find himself face-to-face with Soul Society's resident sake drinking champion.

"What brings you here, Captain Kyoraku?" he asked wearily. "Don't you have a battle plan to be formulating?"

Shunsui gave his depressed friend a sad smile, ordering a bottle of sake.

"I'm on Hollow patrol in these parts for the moment, Urahara-san," he explained. "We're taking shifts, and I volunteered for this one. Figured your misery would love a little company."

Kisuke mirrored his comrade's smile.

"Was I that obvious?"

The Captain chuckled.

"That smile back there was even faker than Ichimaru's old grin, Kisuke."

Urahara snorted and slammed back another shot, putting his elbows on the bar as he ran his hands through his messy hair.

"I must seem pretty pathetic right now, huh?"

"Not at all," Shunsui's warm baritone answered. "Just heartsick. It happens."

Kisuke laughed at that, but it was a bitter one.

"Even to you?"

Kyoraku's eyes darkened as flashes of his former Lieutenant, Lisa Yadomaru, raced through his mind and recalled the better days, before she had been turned into a Vizard by Aizen and cast out from Soul Society.

"Yeah," he said, "even to me."

Urahara sighed and slid the glass down the bar, waiting for it to return full of amber liquid.

"I'm sorry, my friend," he mumbled. Kisuke still felt responsible in a way for the whole Vizard fiasco, and all of the consequences that had spun out of it.

Kyoraku shook his head and put his arm amicably around the Twelfth Division Captain's shoulders.

"Don't apologize," he said gently. "Even though times may seem dark at moments, there's no telling what may come from them."

The forlorn Captain was about to reply when a phone began to vibrate from somewhere within Captain Kyoraku's jacket. Finishing his bottle of sake like a true master of his craft, the Eighth Division Captain nodded goodbye to his friend and was halfway to the door when he reconsidered, grabbed Urahara by his collar and dragged him outside, chucking the inebriated Captain through an improvised Senkaimon before rushing off to deal with the Hollows.

* * *

"I still don't understand why we're on patrol duty," Grimmjow groused, but Soi Fon didn't say anything in response. When she did speak, it was on a completely different topic that did nothing to raise her Lieutenant's spirits.

"Have you made any progress on finding out your Zanpakuto's name yet?"

Jagerjaques barked out a bitter laugh.

"This thing might as well be made of wood. Right before that old man went nuclear it was yammering at me nonstop like some shrew, and now it won't say a word."

Soi Fon grunted as she leapt up onto a particularly high piece of debris among the many that littered the ruins of the Seireitei, and her Lieutenant followed suit.

"Maybe it realized it was just wasting its breath," the Captain opined. "You have to be willing to listen to it, Grimmjow, like I said earlier. A zanpakuto isn't just a blunt instrument, not like the sword you carried when you were an Arrancar."

"I don't have time for that shit," he said, scanning the horizon for stray Soul Reaper reiatsu that could belong to any Special Forces survivors. He was so wrapped up in his task that Grimmjow didn't notice Soi Fon clenching her fist tightly, or that it started to glow with a faint aura of blue energy. And when that fist raced forward and slammed into the side of his head, Jaegerjaques had been knocked out cold before he could even realize he'd been sucker-punched. Soi Fon caught his limp form and laid it down gently on the stone, sitting down beside him.

"You'll thank me later," she told the prone form of her subordinate, before sitting down beside him and turning her attention back to the search for survivors.

* * *

Saika couldn't remember the last time he felt so exhausted, as the weight of the past few days finally came crashing down on him. The orange-eyed prince had been given a pair of shifts off, and he was planning on taking full advantage of them. Falling down into the soft embrace of the bed, Aron was asleep seconds before his head hit the pillow.

Saika opened his eyes with a start, and found himself in a place that resembled Hell far too strongly for his liking. He sighed wearily; a nightmare was not what he needed right now.

"Who says this is a nightmare, Prince?"

Aron turned around and looked for the person who had spoken, his eyes widening it shock as it saw who it was.

"Aizen?" The brown-eyed man gave a sadistic smile in answer, and the orange-eyed prince very nearly shivered.

"What's going on?"

Sosuke's smile widened, and one of his hands absently flipped through a book that sat in his lap.

"I just uncovered some rather fascinating information about your particular species of demon, Prince Aron, and I thought you might like to know about it."

The orange-eyed demon's expression tightened, and he reached for a sword that he soon found wasn't at his hip.

"What the hell is this?" he growled, looking more and more like a cornered animal with each passing second.

"You'd be surprised how much more open to manipulation souls are when the bodies they reside in are sleeping," Aizen answered evasively. "All I had to do was reach out and yank your spiritual form down here, and back in Soul Society nobody is any the wiser. It was fairly tiring sorting through so much reiatsu to find you specifically, though; I doubt I'll be doing it again any time soon."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Sosuke got up and took a few steps toward the tense Prince, still flipping through the pages of the book he held in his hands.

"Quite right. As I was saying, I've uncovered some information on your particular species of demon that I think you'd be very interested in knowing, given your current situation with that Shihion woman."

Aron single orange eye narrowed murderously.

"What does this have to do with Yoruichi?"

Aizen smirked slyly.

"I'll get to that. Let's start at the beginning, though. Your father, Mortos, came from a stock of demons known as the _Mantodea_, or the Mantises. Now, do you know what the mantis is most famous for, Prince?"

"The female cannibalizes the male after they… produce offspring…" the demon finished slowly, his eye widening in fear. "Are you telling me that—"

The former Captain cut him off with a laugh.

"No, Yoruichi isn't going to eat you after she gives birth to whatever hybrid bastard happens to be growing in her belly, although I have to admit that would be rather entertaining to watch. No," he finished, "it's much better than that. You see, in your particular line of demons, that uniquely grisly trait is conferred upon the males rather than the females."

Saika's eye widened even further, this time in abject horror. Aizen smiled.

"I see you've figured it out, Prince. Don't tell me you never wondered why your father had so many offspring and yet never kept a Queen?"

Grasping at any straw he could to refute what the man in front of him was saying, Aron spoke slowly through the haze of terror that threatened to swallow him whole.

"But… I only had one brother…"

"You only had one _living_ brother, Saika, because Callos had killed every single other obstacle between him and the throne long before you showed up. Honestly, did you look into the history of your family even _once_ during all of the time you were down here?"

The hatred spiking up inside the prince's veins melted away the fear, and his voice gained a defiant edge.

"But I'm only half demon. That means the trait won't be strong enough to overwhelm me, you prick."

Aizen didn't say anything at first, instead turning his attention to the book and beginning to read from it.

"It appears as if the trait for spousal cannibalism, in addition to being passed from father to son, is also a hard-wired evolutionary adaptation designed to remove the sympathetic element of the female from the child-rearing process and create the strongest warriors possible. It has been classified as an involuntary reaction, as second nature to males of the _Mantodea_ line as drawing breath. So you see, Prince," the Baron of the Eighth Circle finished ominously, "you can fight the impulse in you as long as you like, but eventually, and inevitably, it _will_ overcome you. And when that slip comes, that tiniest loss of control, you are going to kill her and there is nothing you will able to do to stop it."

"Shut up!" Aron shouted, charging forward with his fist pulled back and ready to cave Sosuke's skull in. Right before he reached his target, though, there was a flash of light and everything went black.

The demon prince awoke with a start, short of breath and sweating. He didn't want to believe a single word of what he had just heard, but at the same time Aizen's words had carried the ring of truth. Then again, how could he be sure that what he had seen had actually been the traitorous Soul Reaper? Lost in turbulent thought for several moments, Saika finally relaxed when an idea so obvious popped into his head he almost smacked himself across the face for not thinking of it earlier. If there were one person that could truly verify what Aizen had told him, it would be Oujiscuro. After all, his zanapkuto's spirit was the manifestation of his demonic side, and if he didn't know about his own… instincts… then no one would.

Slipping easily into his Spirit World, Saika wasted no time in calling out to his zanpakuto's spirit. The fanged, dark-eyed demon appeared second later, sporting an eyepatch almost identical to his master's.

"Yo, Saika. What's up?" he asked with a slight smile on his face, which vanished instantly as he saw the look on the Prince's face.

"Is it true?" he growled, assuming Oujiscuro knew exactly what he was talking about. The uneasy look that crossed his face told Saika that he was right, and his scowl deepened when the spirit didn't respond.

"Is it true?" he repeated, with more of an edge to his voice that spoke of grievous harm if he didn't an answer. Oujiscuro swallowed his trepidation and spoke, his voice still uncertain.

"Well, there's good news, and there's bad news. Which do you want first?"

The prince sighed, and it seemed like his soul was leaving his body with his breath.

"Hit me with the bad news first."

"It's true."

Aron had no idea that two words could hurt so much, but in that moment he would have preferred taking a direct hit from a full-powered Getsuga Tensho rather than feel the way he did now.

"Before you throw yourself off of this roof, though, brother, there is some good news."

"It better be the best news I've ever heard, or I'm still going to consider throwing myself off of this roof," Saika answered, but there was a slight current of black humor in his voice that told Oujiscuro he was joking, if only barely. More than a little relieved, the spirit continued.

"Given the fact that any child Yoruichi has will only be one-quarter demon and three-quarters Soul Reaper, even if the child is a male, he shouldn't inherit the hunger."

"Why not?"

"You mastered me," the spirit replied matter-of-factly. "The fact that you were able to blend your two halves together so seamlessly is somewhat of a double-edged sword: because you've contained your demonic side, you won't pass the instinct onto your son, but because both sides of you are so intertwined you're even more susceptible to falling victim to it."

Saika sighed again as the full picture became grimly apparent to him.

"So I end the cycle, but still get screwed."

Oujiscuro nodded ruefully, feeling his master's pain as acutely as if it had been his own.

"Pretty much."

Aron got up and left his Spirit World. Too depressed to fall back asleep, the demon prince rose and walked to the window, staring mutely out at the horizon.

* * *

Back in Hell, Aizen relaxed on his throne and laughed. With just a few simple words, he had cut Saika's legs completely out from under him. And as long as one of their aces wasn't fighting at full power, it would make what was to come that much easier. Ripping open a garganta, the evil Vizard sent a squad of 20 Praetorian Demons through it and smiled: Soi Fon deserved to be massacred for doing something as stupid as knocking her only backup out cold, and that traitor Grimmjow's head would be an added bonus.

* * *

The Second Division Lieutenant and former Arrancar Grimmjow Jaegerjaques opened his eyes blearily, coughing shortly afterwards, as his first intake of breath had also swallowed some sand.

Wait… sand?

Grimmjow's eyes snapped open completely and he shot to his feet, instinctively ready to fight anything he saw move. He didn't know how he'd wound up back in Hueco Mundo, but any Hollow that wanted to tangle with him was going to become nothing more than a splatter on the sand. But then a sharp pain in his temple brought back Jaegerjaques' memories of the moments before he had woken up here, and he realized he wasn't in Hueco Mundo after all.

He was in his Spirit World.

"Took you long enough, Grimmjow."

The deep, rumbling voice sent rattles through his bones, and Jeagerjaques turned to face the speaker with a slight amount of fear. Which, as it turned out, was completely warranted.

The figure that had spoken was twice as tall as Grimmjow, which wouldn't have been all that bad if it had been human, but it wasn't. It was a panther, twice as tall as Grimmjow at its shoulder blades. The row of fangs that now glinted hungrily in the moonlight looked like they could tear through diamond as if it were silk, and its eyes glowed an unearthly, brilliant blue. Its fur was a light, sky blue separated with black stripes, but despite the seemingly-delicate color it bristled with enough animalistic fury to make a lioness cower.

Not one to remain at a disadvantage for very long, Grimmjow readopted his air of confidence and spoke.

"So you're my zanpakuto's spirit?"

The panther scoffed, and the sound almost froze the former Arrancar's blood.

"Unfortunately. I've been roaring myself hoarse in here and you've never so much as bent your ear to listen. Why you insist on being such a loner, even at your weakest, I'll never understand."

Grimmjow bristled that the insinuation, growling from deep in his throat.

"Who says I'm weak?"

The former Arrancar was sprawled out on the ground before he could blink, pain radiating from his right cheek as a trio of bleeding gashes now adorned it. The panther loomed over him, one paw raised and damp with blood.

"I do, Grimmjow. You are weak without your Hollow powers to rely on like you always have, and if you do not accept me as a part of you and harness my strength, you _will_ die. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but eventually and inevitably you will fall, and I am not about to be dragged down by the chains of your misguided pride. Get up and fight me, Grimmjow! Face the true power of your soul, and do not run from it; embrace it!"

The spirit's other front paw came down, and would have crushed Jaegerjaques' head like a grapefruit had he not rolled to the side in the last moment. Jaegerjaques quickly leapt to his feet and kicked out behind him, smirking in satisfaction as his strike collided with something fleshy and the panther gave out a frustrated growl. It wasn't quite the sound of defeat that Grimmjow had been hoping for, however.

"Pathetic."

A forepaw quickly slammed into his leg, and it was only by virtue of his speed and near-feline balance that Jaegerjaques was able to stay on his feet. His left leg felt fractured, but there was no way in hell he was going down. Snarling, the former Arrancar bared his fangs and threw himself headlong at his zanpakuto's spirit, aiming for the jugular.

* * *

Soi Fon was on her feet moments after sensing the approaching demonic reiatsu, and immediately dropped down to lower ground in order to draw the fiends away from Grimmjow's unconscious form. Cursing, she readied herself for a drawn-out fight and was about to call out her _shikai_ when twenty demons at least three times her size appeared out of nowhere. They were wielding axes with blades as long as her body, their bloodthirsty glares shining out at the Captain like embers from the pits of Hell's furnaces. The attacks of the Praetorian Demons gave Soi Fon no time to breathe, let alone call out her zanpakuto, and even when half of them suddenly stopped cold and flashed off towards another location her odds were still looking decidedly bleak.

The Second Division Captain soon found herself sincerely wishing that she hadn't knocked out her backup, but there was no use dwelling on wishes when she had to either focus on what was happening in front of her right now or die. As she felt herself getting more and more defensive and the huge demons did not tire in the slightest, Soi Fon could only frantically hope for either backup, the opportunity to release her zanpakuto, or both.

* * *

Urahara's feet had propelled him through the corridor of the senkaimon on pure instinct alone. When he re-entered Soul Society several feet above the ground and fell to the Earth like a rock, however, the resounding _thud_ of Kisuke's impact shattered his sizeable buzz faster than a sneeze wrecking a sand sculpture. Now all that was left in his head was a searing pain that felt akin to a steel spike being pounded into his skull with a sledgehammer.

Staggering back onto his feet, the Twelfth Division Captain shut both of his eyes and clutched his forehead, trying to will his mind back to normal. When this approach failed pitifully, Kisuke decided to just cut out the middleman and dive right into the source. As soon as he entered his Spirit World, however, a fist connected sharply with his jaw and sent Urahara tumbling through the grass. When a rock finally stopped him, the bruised Captain blinked and found himself opposite a very proud, and _very_ pissed Benihime. He gave a weak smirk as he got up, popping his jaw back into place.

"Nice to see your left hook hasn't gotten any weaker, sweetcheeks," Kisuke said, knowing how angry the princess got when she was given nicknames. Rather than spit back a reply, though, Benihime just glared at him and flipped an errant bunch of red hair back over her shoulder.

"Disgusting," she said at last, with a voice as noble as her appearance. Kisuke chuckled ruefully.

"If it's anyone's fault that I'm covered in dirt right now it's yours, Benihime."

The princess gave a very unladylike growl before flashing away and appearing again right in front of her master, grabbing the front of his _haori_ and pulling him towards her until they were no more than a few inches apart.

"I'm not talking about your looks, Kisuke," she said, with a voice that might as well have been liquid fire. "I'm talking about your soul. Look at what you've done to yourself, all for the sake of that who—"

The zanpakuto spirit was cut off by a glare from Urahara's eyes that would have made even her shiver if not for her pride.

"Finish that word, _princess_," he hissed acidly, "and I promise you I will make you regret it."

Benihime held her master's gaze for a few tense moments before looking down at her feet and sighing, relaxing her grip until the Captain stood at arm's length.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, Kisuke," she said mournfully. "That Shihoin woman is tearing us apart. She's ruining your _soul_, and you're letting her!"

Rather than produce some kind of shame on his face, Benihime noticed with a small amount of fear that her master was smirking. That was something that never, ever ended well.

"Are you jealous?"

The princess' carefully-maintained expression vanished in a heartbeat as she gaped openly at Kisuke for a moment, before realizing what she was doing and closing her jaw faster than a bear trap.

"Don't be absurd, Urahara," she said stonily, using his last name to show him just how perturbed she was. But Kisuke knew he'd gotten under her skin, and he wasn't going to stop prodding her until he'd made the proud spirit pay for almost breaking his jaw.

Little did he know how easy it would be for him to fall on his own sword. Figuratively speaking, of course.

"If there's one thing you've always been, princess, it's a horrible liar," he growled huskily, closing the distance between them and placing his mouth right next to her ear.

"I didn't know your blood could boil too, Benihime."

The zanpakuto spirit couldn't stop the light shiver this time at the edge in the Captain's voice, but she was determined not to lose this battle. Smiling wickedly to herself, the Red Princess mirrored her master's gesture and replied, her voice smoother than silk.

"Care to see if it's warmer than Yoruichi's?"

Urahara recoiled from her like he'd just been stared in the face by a Gorgon, and his zanpakuto smirked.

"I knew it," the princess said haughtily. "Even when she's nowhere near you, she has you wrapped around her little finger. It's pathetic, Kisuke. For God's sake, she doesn't even love you!"

Those five words struck the Captain like a dagger in the heart, and it took all of his willpower not to physically reel backwards.

"You don't know that," he said, aware that his voice was as hollow as a rotting tree trunk and not caring in the slightest.

"Don't give me that bullshit," Benihime seethed, her royal veneer completely cast aside at this point to reveal the tempestuous nature at her core. Like her master, she tried to cover up what she was truly feeling at all times, but in moments like this there was no holding her back.

"The more you delude yourself, the more painful it's going to be when you can't run from it anymore! I mean come on, she's already pregnant with someone else's son, Kisuke; what else does she have to do before you can see the truth? Carve your heart out with a knife?"

It was only thanks to her quick reflexes that the sword blow struck her arm and not her forehead, but the blade still stung worse than anything the princess could remember.

"For your information," Urahara growled, "she already has."

Ignoring the thin trickle of burgundy blood that ran from her wound, Benihime narrowed her dark eyes and replied.

"Then why didn't you just tell her that? Why didn't you say something, before that half-demon brat showed up?"

"Because I was afraid!" Kisuke shouted, feeling his reiatsu surging forward with wild abandon as the admission broke from his lips. After a few seconds, the raging Captain calmed down and slumped forward, as if all strength had fled from his limbs following his heartbroken confession. Benihime caught him in her arms and embraced him like a mother would her son, saying nothing and everything as she ran her fingers gently through her master's messy blond hair.

"I couldn't lose her," he said, sounding once more like the scared teenager who had awoken his zanpakuto before he was ready all of those years ago, in an attempt to impress the golden-eyed noble that had captured his heart with a glance and a word.

"I was afraid that she wouldn't feel the same way, and that our friendship would be broken forever. I just couldn't bring myself to say it, and I lost her."

"You haven't lost her yet, Kisuke," the princess whispered. "The half-demon's days are numbered, I've seen it in his blood…"

Urahara pulled away from his zanpakuto spirit in surprise, his gray eyes wide.

"What? What do you mean?" he asked, the calm voice unusually frantic. Benihime arched a slender eyebrow.

"That's not quite the reaction I was expecting, to be honest," she said evenly, her regal persona back in place. "I assumed you would be overjoyed."

"Why would you assume that?" He replied, incredulous. "Just because I might hold a grudge against Aron doesn't mean I don't care about how Yoruichi would react to someone she loves—not to mention the father of her child—up and _dying_. Losing him once almost ruined her, and I don't want to find out what'll happen if she goes through that a second time."

"She won't," Benihime said reassuringly, but with a cutthroat undercurrent. "She'll have you there to help her pick up the pieces."

The Captain all but growled at the emotions her words were stirring up within him.

"Stop making this seem like a good thing," he said harshly, "and tell me exactly what you're talking about and how to stop it."

The princess tried to stonewall him for a few moments, but she eventually cracked under the weight of her master's gaze. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, though, a quake ripped through the Spirit World around them.

"Looks like you've got some company," Benihime said, glad to have been given a way out. From the way Kisuke glared at her before leaving, though, the zanpakuto knew she hadn't gotten away from the topic completely. Sighing, she turned her uncommonly sad eyes to the sky.

"If you're still alive the next time we meet, Yoruichi Shihoin," the Red Princess declared, "I'm going to make you suffer for breaking his heart."

* * *

It had been a long time since he'd been beaten up this badly, and Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was the antithesis of pleased. As he flexed his arm and discovered that it had been fractured in multiple places by his zanpakuto spirit's latest claw-swipe, the fire in his eyes only burned brighter. As it did so, the former Arrancar felt something else flare up within him as well, something that began in the pit of his soul and rose all the way up to his throat before fading away on the tip of his tongue. The panther in front of him stopped pacing for a moment and grinned.

"You're finally beginning to feel it, aren't you? My name is almost within your grasp, Grimmjow: now come, and claim it from me!"

As the fight was rejoined, Jaegerjaques felt a newfound and strange power flowing through him. His Hollow powers had been like an endless hunger, feeding on carnage and destruction and fueled by his sense of hatred and the isolation that came from being soulless. This strength, however, seemed to grow from within him like a tree, its roots anchoring themselves deep within his soul and its branches flowing up and outwards. It spread its power to every corner of Grimmjow's being, and his wounds ceased to pain him altogether as they healed.

This was the might granted to the Soul Reapers by their souls, and the raw strength behind it was intoxicating. Feeling an inexplicable desire to know its source and discover its true nature, the former Arrancar-turned fledgling Soul Reaper closed his eyes, dove down to the root of the power and beheld the seed from which it had grown, the core of his soul. Gazing upon the pulsing light and finally accepting it as a natural part of who and what he had become, Jaegerjaques was surprised its name came to him as naturally as his own. A triumphant, predatory smile came over his face as the power seemed to bow to him in submission, and the former Arrancar soared up and out of his Spirit World. It was time to kick some ass.

Opening his eyes, Grimmjow saw that he had been fighting without even realizing it, and that the panther, which had seemed so indomitable before, now bowed before him.

"You have finally learned to trust in the power of your soul, and its ability to protect you from harm while you searched it for the truth," the spirit spoke at last. "You have been granted my name," it continued, raising its head as its blue eyes hardened again,

"But do not think for one second that our fight has finished. You have not fought for anywhere near long enough to master my power completely, nor have you placed enough faith in me to call forth the power of _bankai_."

Grimmjow smiled toothily, his cocky grin back on his face.

"Just give it time," he said.

Before the Soul Reaper and his spirit could say anything else, a sound like a peel of thunder ripped through the sky and Jaegerjaques felt a tendril of terror slither up his spine.

"It seems as though your mate is in danger," the spirit opined, and Grimmjow vanished as soon as those words had been spoken. Whoever had the guts to even _think_ about attacking his Captain was going to pay a steep price for their arrogance.

* * *

Soi Fon was almost at her limit; even though she had managed to call out Suzumebachi, the Captain had only managed to eliminate three of her ten enemies before the fatigue that had been building up throughout the skirmish swallowed her whole. The burning ache within her muscles made her arms feel like lead, and the demons only seemed to get faster as she slowed down, like sharks smelling blood. Right when she was about to despair, however, Soi Fon felt a reiatsu surge nearby that was at once foreign and intimately familiar.

Her Lieutenant was by her side an instant later, blocking an axe-blow that would have otherwise cut Soi Fon in two. His zanpakuto was a blade that looked like a scimitar, with a viciously serrated edge that spoke of Grimmjow's ever-present, primal need not only to defeat his opponent, but to utterly tear them apart. These fangs would have no mercy on their prey, and even Soi Fon was apprehensive about the destructive power such a blade carried with it.

Grimmjow glanced over at his Captain, and his blue eyes softened for the briefest of moments.

"You all right?"

The Captain felt her lips threatening to smile at the concern in his voice, but she beat it back; this was no time for sappiness.

"Of course. Who do you think you're talking to, Lieutenant?"

Jaegerjaques' eyes regained their edge and he smirked, before returning his attention to the battle at hand. There would be plenty of time to rile up his superior officer after these bastards had been taken care of. His zanpakuto would have been growling if it had vocal chords in this form, and the light glinting from the jagged edge made each point stand out like a fang dripping with malice. Screw restraint: he was going all-out on these fuckers. With a snarl, the Soul Reaper activated his zanpakuto's special ability.

"Svanisca."

Soi Fon's expression became one of unabashed shock when Grimmjow completely vanished from sight, reiatsu and all. For a heartbeat she was worried, but any anxiety in her heart was calmed when the axe that her Lieutenant had been holding back was suddenly cleaved in half. When the upper torso of the unfortunate demon was carved up more thoroughly than a Christmas goose in about ten seconds flat, it was very clear to the Captain what had just happened.

Her Lieutenant had become completely undetectable, and if there was one thing more terrifying than a bloodthirsty Grimmjow, it was a bloodthirsty Grimmjow you couldn't see coming. He was in full-bore feral mode at this point, carving a bloody swath of destruction through the demons that had been stupid enough to raise their weapons against him. Soi Fon could only watch in morbid fascination as the invisible berserker eviscerated the demons that had almost killed her with an effortlessness that proved he was a true predator, born and bred.

After the last demon had fallen following a particularly gruesome decapitation, the Captain heard the soft sound of a graceful, feline landing shortly before Jaegerjaques reappeared, his zanpakuto resealed but still dripping with fresh blood. Pausing to wipe the blade clean first, the former Arrancar walked over to his superior and lover with a cocky arrogance that made the fire burning in Soi Fon's exhausted muscles shift into something else entirely and she almost shivered. Grinning widely, the Lieutenant looked down at his Captain and chuckled.

"I can't believe you needed my help with that, Sir."

The Second Division Captain growled and lashed out at Grimmjow with a kick, forgetting in her anger that the leg she was using was currently broken in more than one place. She winced and hissed sharply despite the light hold Jaegerjaques had used to stop her attack, and his face shifted from cocky to concerned. He scanned the rest of her leg for any other breaks beyond the two he could feel, sighing in relief when he didn't find any. Still, there was no way he was letting Soi Fon flash-step in this condition.

Grimmjow let her leg go, but only so that he could sweep Soi Fon into a bridal hold. Ignoring her indignant snarls and curses of protest, the Second Division Lieutenant held on just tightly enough to immobilize her and vanished, hurrying back to the Shiba household and the skills of Retsu Unohana. His zanpakuto growled contentedly in victory, and Grimmjow mirrored the gesture: he had learned the name of his sword, rescued his Captain from danger and racked up a pretty impressive headcount; not a bad day's work.

* * *

It is said that a Soul Reaper's zanpakuto is an uncorrupted reflection of their owner, their basest essence laid bare, free of any meddling emotions or societal inflections. This is the truth, and in few cases did it ring truer than the case of Kisuke Urahara. He and Benihime both possessed incredibly calm, calculated exteriors, barely restraining the storm of emotions roiling underneath. Perhaps that balance was what led the Captain to draw his powers from blood, the mercurial nature of it; one moment blood could be warm and comforting, the next raging and destructive.

All of this aside, however, the most important thing to know about a person who spends so much time keeping themselves controlled is this:

Do not, under any circumstances, _ever_ make them lose that control.

The demons currently circling Kisuke Urahara did not know this, and their ignorance would soon prove to be their last, and greatest mistake. Urahara had been yearning for a way to release his pent-up aggression since his zanpakuto's spirit had first punched him in the jaw, and these poor bastards had just given it to him on a silver platter. As a borderline-psychotic grin split his face, the Twelfth Division Captain released Benihime without uttering a sound and looked up at the ten demons circling him, drawn like wolves to his reiatsu. But when the warrior beheld his enemies, all he saw were vessels carrying blood.

Slicing the air with his zanpakuto, Kisuke's grin widened as he saw his first target's blood wrenched free from its body. Moving like a puppeteer controlling a marionette, Urahara danced to and fro like a sandstorm as he slashed Benihime around him in a frenzy, tearing the blood from his enemies without even cutting them. This was the true, untamed nature of the Captain, the power that had driven him to his pinnacle and constantly threatened to tip him over the other side, sending him spiraling down into madness.

But right now, the last thing on Kisuke's mind was control. This was about causing enough pain to drown out his own. This was about shoving his emotions to the furthest corner of his mind so that they would stop causing him so much agony, and reclaiming them only when the carnage was over.

If he reclaimed them at all, that is.

* * *

Rukia Kuchiki had never liked the woods; they always made her claustrophobic, and the wind whistling harshly through the myriad branches was enough to put her entire body on edge. Damn her stupid pride for making her tell Ichigo she could handle herself just fine, and that they could cover twice the area if they split up. She had wanted to prove to both herself and to him that she had truly earned the right to wear the _haori_ of the Thirteenth Division, and now she had wound up in the woods, alone and becoming more uneasy by the moment.

Rukia knew that such feelings were weakness and should be cast aside on the field of battle; Bykauya had told her that more times than she could count, but there was still something in the air she couldn't shake that just felt… off. Almost like she was being watched by something, or someone.

The sudden cold feeling of a blade being pressed against the back of her neck confirmed the younger Kuchiki's lingering suspicion, but she couldn't turn her neck to see who had held her up for fear of losing her head. So she waited, hoping her assailant had the good manners to ask questions first, and shoot later.

"You have exactly ten seconds to tell me what you are doing here, child," the serious yet velvety voice said, "or I will end you where you stand."

Rukia's heart skipped the next few beats; she might not be able to see the face of her enemy, but she would know that voice anywhere.

There was only one like it, after all, and it belonged to the Second Espada. The Captain of the Thirteenth Division had Halibel's zanpakuto at her throat, and if she didn't think of something fast Rukia would be in serious trouble.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry that took so long to update, but this past week has been torturous as far as academic life is concerned and the writer's block harpy was pestering me throughout the composition of this installment. I hope this chapter wasn't slow or anything, and I'm sorry that the tail-end of the Byakuya/Zaraki fight didn't turn out as detailed as I would have liked; I just didn't have the space for it and I didn't want the momentum to drag. I hope the dialogue and character development came across as believable enough to make up for the slower-than-normal pacing, and _**please review**_; it really helps keep my productivity and interest up. Lastly, I feel evil for dropping the cliffhanger, but I need something to keep all you guys coming back, am I right?

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and see you next time!


	18. Dusk

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Bleach, or any of its characters. I do, however, claim ownership of this specific story, and my OCs.

**A/N:** Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed so far, and made last chapter tied for the highest-reviewed installment with eight reviews! The story's at 92 total right now on the road to 100… you know what to do: drop some feedback!

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 18:** Dusk

* * *

Orihime sat with her legs dangling over the edge of the porch, looking out at the sun as it began to move in a downward slope towards the horizon. Normally the kaleidoscopic blur of oranges, reds, purples and blues sculpted into various shapes by the immense clouds would be enchanting enough to put a smile on her face, but Inoue wasn't smiling. In fact, her brow was furrowed in a rare frown, an expression that made even the birds stop singing out of concern. Whatever had caused the effervescent girl to become so morose, it had to be serious. Eventually the frown relaxed, but in its absence Orihime's eyes were full of such abject hopelessness they made the frown look like a smile in comparison. A squirrel sauntered up to her with an acorn, looking up at her with a slightly cocked head and an expression that said 'You clearly need this more than I do, kid.'

Inoue gave a weak smile and shook her head, and the squirrel hesitated for a few heartbeats before shrugging and scampering off. Her eyes were dry, but in a way Orihime wished she could find a way to start bawling; at least that would be a way to get rid of the knot that had winding its way around her heart and constricting it day after day since she had seen Ichigo and Rukia share the kiss the auburn-haired human had always wished to have. If that grief wasn't crushing enough, her nature wouldn't let Inoue avoid feeling guilty over the fact that she was jealous of her friends' happiness. The three-pronged assault of sorrow, shame and envy was grinding Orihime's normally ebullient soul down like a gigantic whetstone.

All she wanted to do was break down, crawl into a corner and weep like she had the day her brother left her. But the tears refused to come, almost as if they were mocking her pain. As she was about to get up and plod back into the comforting embrace of her bed, the weight of someone sitting down next to her jolted Inoue out of her thoughts. Glancing over, she saw the white shroud of the Quincy.

"Are you injured, Ishida-kun?"

Uryu gave a bitter smile that the girl next to him couldn't see, and shifted his glasses back into their normal position.

"Not at all," he replied. "I just enjoy the sunset, but I hate watching it alone. It's much nicer when you share its beauty with someone, don't you agree?"

Orihime found herself nodding slightly as if by reflex, her soul's weariness causing her body to pick up the slack. She was about to speak, but something in Ishida's voice told her that he wasn't finished yet, a suspicion that was affirmed a moment later.

"In my experience," the Quincy continued, his tone calm as always, "it's the same with grief. When I was little, I used to bottle up all of my anger and frustration, until it screwed up my aim so much that my grandfather refused to train me any longer until I told him what was wrong."

Ishida paused again, but he was so focused on making his point and prying Orihime from the grip of melancholy that the archer didn't hear or feel Inoue scooting closer to him, to within arm's reach.

"He'd haul me up to the top of a hill we would train near, and we'd watch the sunset," Uryu continued. "He'd pester me until I told him what was bothering me, and as much as I thought it was weak to rely on someone else, Sensei's words always seemed to make me feel better, if only for a few hours…"

Ishida was cut off by a wrenching sob, which still pained him even though the archer knew it was a good sign; one he had honestly been expecting. What he hadn't expected, though, was for the grey-eyed girl to grab his shoulder and turn his torso towards her, far enough to let Inoue bury her face in his shoulder and cry the rest of her tears out there. The Quincy archer got over his initial shock and used one of his arms to delicately embrace the quivering girl, his heart breaking slowly behind his steely blue eyes. He knew that Ichigo was far too naïve and in love to know what he was doing to his friend by being involved with Rukia, but that still didn't completely stamp out the urge Uryu had in that moment to riddle the orange-haired Soul Reaper full of holes. For Orihime's sake, however, he managed to keep himself under control.

The auburn-haired human would have never thought Uryu Ishida to be the comforting type, but there was something about the warmth in his touch that spread throughout her and gently, painlessly eased the tears from her eyes. Inoue felt her sobs grow less and less frequent, and soon enough the fit had passed altogether. Just when she thought she was stable, however, a completely different type of tension settled in to replace the heartache that had bid her farewell. Orihime was now presented with a choice: stay where she was and seize this opportunity as a chance to pick up the pieces, or get up and leave, abandoning her friend's comfort and crawling back to the deceptively gentle embrace of self-pity.

Ishida felt himself stiffen as Inoue shifted in his embrace, but quickly relaxed before she could come to the erroneous conclusion that something was wrong. Orihime scooted so that she was side-by-side with the archer once again, making sure not to displace his arm while at the same time putting one of her own arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. Two could play this game, apparently, and Uyru had absolutely no problem with turnabout. The pair looked out at the sky stretching majestically before them, and for a few moments every concern ceased to exist.

"You're right," Inoue said softly, closing her eyes, "it is much nicer when you share it with someone."

The Quincy next to her smiled, a gesture that slowly grew into his first legitimate grin ever. Maybe he would be able to forgive Kurosaki for being so clueless, just this once.

* * *

Rukia could hear the flies buzzing around the tree branches, smell the beads of sweat trickling down her forehead and feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise millimeter by millimeter. Her adrenaline was pumping way past overdrive, and the barrage of information her accelerated nerves were sending to her brain was almost enough to overwhelm the Captain. It was only thanks to years and years of training in the noble art of being completely impassive that Kuchiki was able to keep her breaths from coming in gasps, and she waited with tensed muscles for the right moment to break out of the zanpakuto's grip. When Rukia felt the blade ease up on her neck the slightest of fractions, she flash-stepped a few strides away, turned and drew her sword all in one smooth motion. She could have tried to run, but the violet-eyed Soul Reaper knew that in this situation, Halibel would have been the fox and she the hare. So Rukia stood her ground, trying to keep her grip on Sode no Shirayuki from shaking. The Arrancar's eyes narrowed.

"Impressive flash-step," she said evenly, before her eyes narrowed to slits.

"It comes as no surprise, then, that the Commander-General would send you to assassinate me. But I promise you, such a futile effort will only end in your death."

Before Rukia could open her mouth to refute Halibel's words, the former Second Espada had vanished with a buzz and reappeared within arm's length of her, bringing her zanpakuto down with cold precision. Rukia barely managed to block the strike, too flush with adrenaline to be scared about the fact that she was fighting the second-strongest Arrancar in existence. The force of the impact shot up her arm all the way to her shoulder, and Kuchiki silently cursed her habit of fighting with one hand on her sword rather than two.

Then again, there were certain advantages to having a free hand in a duel.

"_Hado number 4: Byakurai!_"

The bolt of lighting would have torn through Halibel's bicep if she hadn't vanished with a buzz a split second after the spell had been cast, but that was exactly what Rukia had been counting on. She had been given a window only a few seconds wide, but that was all she needed.

"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki!"

The Captain felt a wave of power flow through her as she released her zanpakuto, and she smiled; now, the fight was that much closer to even. As she got into position to perform her first dance, though, Rukia felt the tiniest fluctuation of reiatsu behind her and spun around, the clang of steel ringing through the calm forest as the zanpakuto clashed again. This time, however, Kuchiki didn't have to worry about controlling her breathing: the slight of a blade millimeters from gouging out her right eye was terrifying enough to steal her breath completely.

"You can only hold me at bay for so long, young one," the former Second Espada said coldly as she put more pressure on the white blade keeping her from victory.

"Take the offensive, or kneel and allow me to take your head."

Rukia growled from deep within her throat, Halibel's unnerving calm succeeding at drawing out her rage at being so effortlessly dominated. Pushing back with all of her strength, the young Kuchiki broke away from the Arrancar once again. Barely repressing her desire to charge forward and rain down strike after strike in retaliation, the Captain used her respite to unleash something much more fearsome.

"Bankai: Inverno Furioso."

The burst of reiatsu threw Halibel off-balance, and the wave of razor-sharp icicles that was launched at her two heartbeats later was enough to force the Arrancar off of her feet, back-flipping through the air with feline grace to avoid being thoroughly lacerated. As soon as she was back on solid ground, which she noticed had now completely frosted over, Halibel felt the edge of a blade constructed entirely out of ice pressing insistently at her throat.

"Who's cornered now, Arrancar?"

The former Second Espada did not dignify the taunt with a response, and simply stared daggers at her enemy with her sharp green eyes.

"Finish this, Soul Reaper," Halibel spoke after a tense moment, her voice gaining an uncharacteristic edge. Rukia put more pressure on her sword, stopping only when she could feel the vibrations of her opponent's pulse travel through the ice of her blade and into her hand.

"I will, trust me," the young Kuchiki answered. "Right after you tell me what you're doing here."

The glare in the former Second Espada's eyes relaxed, but her stance remained as taut as a tightrope.

"Before I begin my tale, here's a word of advice, young one," Halibel said.

"When you have the chance to defeat your opponent, do not let it slip through your fingers."

Rukia had barely finished unraveling the implications of that statement when Halibel vanished from sight. The next sensation the young Kuchiki felt was a sharp pain in her side as the Arrancar's knee slammed into her with the force of a charging bull, sending her crumpling to the ground with an agonized grunt.

"So inexperienced," the former Second Espada opined as she kicked Rukia with enough strength to lift her off of the ground and send her flying into a nearby tree, which cruelly broke her momentum and more than a few of her bones. As she slumped to the frozen earth, the young Kuchiki heard Halibel's next words and felt like she was being eviscerated by Senbonsakura.

"What an incompetent assassin. You are a disgrace to that _haori_ you wear, young one. But do not worry; I shall restore its honor by freeing it from your unworthy hands."

She could feel fluid of some kind creeping into her lungs and the taste of something bitter hanging on her tongue, but even in her battered state Rukia forced herself to look up at her executioner; Byakuya would never forgive her if she lacked the pride to stare her enemy in the eye. Not even flinching as she saw the blade come down in its fatal arc, Rukia steeled herself for the moment of blistering pain that preceded the tranquility of death.

Halibel cut a deep, but intentionally non-fatal diagonal slash across her opponent's chest, like a cat toying with its food. The Arrancar paused as she heard Rukia cry out in pain, allowing herself a moment to reflect on the tragedy of the situation: that such a brash, inexperienced Soul Reaper had been sent to claim her head. Yet, the true loss was that this warrior was not without promise; she had fought well, only to be defeated by the former Second Espada's superior level of skill. Now all of that potential had been scattered to the winds, and this violet-eyed Soul Reaper was about to meet her end. Giving a small sigh, Halibel brought her blade down again and prepared herself for the messy aftermath.

"Cry out, Suzumushi."

The sound-wave rippled out from its epicenter and rushed over the Arrancar and her prey, knocking them both unconscious. Tosen stepped out from the shade of the trees, wearing the now-tattered uniform he had been given under Aizen and sporting a rather large swath of bandages over the spot where his old friend Sajin had run him through during their final confrontation. That blow had been excruciatingly painful, but Kaname had clung tenaciously to the last ragged threads of his life-force, determined to keep them from slipping away. A series of desperate, adrenaline-fueled flash-steps had brought him to these woods. It was here that he had slipped into a coma, a last-ditch mechanism on the part of his soul to retain vital spirit energies and keep him alive. Yamamoto's explosion had jarred him awake, still injured but much healthier.

And now Kaname Tosen, Captain of Soul Society turned traitor, was standing over a very potent bargaining chip in the form of Rukia Kuchiki. If he played his cards right, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that he could trade her for amnesty; Tosen had no illusions about the likelihood of his reacceptance into the Soul Reaper ranks, but something was better than nothing. At least this way, he wouldn't have to worry about glancing over his shoulder every five seconds to see if Komamura or Hisagi was lurking behind him with an unsheathed zanpakuto.

Kaname ignored the fallen Arrancar for the moment and slung the injured young Kuchiki over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He was preparing to flash-step towards the place where reiatsu was the strongest when it felt like he'd just been hit head-on by a charging rhinoceros. Tosen barely had enough time to register who the massive wall of reiatsu belonged to when the tip of a slim, sharp zanpakuto was pressing insistently against his back, threatening to punch right through his heart and out the other side.

"Drop her right now," Ichigo Kurosaki's voice intoned with deadly seriousness, "or I will skewer you where you stand."

The former Ninth Division Captain stood motionless, trying to discern any possible weakness in the orange-haired Soul Reaper's stance. There were none to be found, however, and Kaname realized that if he didn't comply with Kurosaki's demands he probably wasn't going to make it out of this bind in one piece.

That didn't mean he couldn't twist this to his advantage, though. Far from it. Letting Rukia's limp body slide back over his shoulder, Tosen was careful to angle it so that if Ichigo didn't move his black katana Kuchiki would be shorn in two. Immediately after he felt the pressure ease on his back, the traitor Captain ripped open a _garganta_ and dashed through it, closing it swiftly behind him.

Kurosaki didn't allow himself time to be angry that his enemy had escaped: Rukia was in horrible shape, and healing her was his only concern. Laying her down gently on the frozen leaves, Ichigo took in the severity of Rukia's wounds and felt an inexplicable, primal rage well up in him. His instinct was screaming at him to find the person who had done this and tear them to shreds for daring to mar his loved one. But the Soul Reaper hastily repressed that emotion, instead focusing on patching up Rukia's wounds before she bled to death.

Ichigo didn't know any healing _kido_ to speak of, but he did remember his first fight with Kenpachi, when Zangetsu had told him that reiatsu could be used to staunch the bleeding in wounds during an emergency. The Soul Reaper wasn't sure if the method would work with someone else's reiatsu, but at this point he was willing to try anything. Concentrating as hard as he could, Ichigo treated it like casting a _kido_ spell and formed a grip on his raw spiritual energy. Once he had it under control, he forced it to flow from his body into Rukia's wounds. A small sigh of relief passed Kurosaki's lips as he saw the blood flow slowing and stopping, but Ichigo compelled himself to stay focused; any slip-up could reopen the gash that threatened to rob the prone Soul Reaper of her life.

Several tense moments passed before Rukia's eyes fluttered open, and the orange-haired Soul Reaper felt a huge weight roll off of his chest he hadn't even known was there.

"I…Ichigo?"

"Shh, it's all right," he answered as encouragingly as he could. "Don't move; you're pretty beat up."

The young Kuchiki forced a faint smile onto her lips, but it quickly morphed into a grimace as she felt pressure being placed on the sizable wound by a pair of weathered, but gentle hands. The initial sensation of discomfort was rapidly replaced by grateful relief as Rukia felt the pain ebbing away from her, and if she had been aware of the intimacy of the situation she might have had the decency to blush. As it stood, though, the violet-eyed Soul Reaper just sighed and rested her head on the frosty ground.

Rukia's feeling of tranquility evaporated faster than boiling water, however, when her head turned to the side and she saw Halibel's body splayed out on the leaves.

"_You are a disgrace to that _haori_._"

The words slammed back into her like a hammer, and the young Kuchiki couldn't help but agree with them. The fact that she had held her own, even for such a short time, with the second strongest Arrancar in existence never occurred to her; the only thing she felt then was the bitter, crushing sensation of defeat. Halibel was right; she didn't deserve to wear the white of a Captain if all she was going to do was soil it with her blood.

Ichigo felt Rukia go unsettlingly limp beneath his hands and his brow furrowed in consternation. The sense of gloom she was exuding was palpable, and she normally reserved this level of self-pity for when she was about to be executed. As soon as her wound had been closed up, the orange-haired warrior propped his loved one up against a tree trunk and leaned over, placing a gentle but insistent kiss on her lips. As he had hoped, the contact was enough to break Rukia out of her lethargy as she returned the action, if only temporarily. Ichigo felt the bitterness seep back into her kiss, and he broke away from her sharply.

"Okay, midget," Kurosaki said sternly, using his favorite nickname to grab her attention, "spill it."

Rukia looked at him strangely, affecting an air of ignorance.

"What're you talking about, Ichigo?"

Ichigo was about to reply when he found the words stopping in his throat, choked back by the wave of fury rising from the pit of his soul. This must have been how Rukia felt when he had tried to hide the effect Karin's death was having on him; he had bared his soul to her, warts and all, and now she refused to do the same for him? The blatant hypocrisy made him want to scream.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Rukia," he half-growled, and the violet-eyed Kuchiki flinched at the genuinely harsh tone she almost never heard Ichigo use towards her. Rather than shock her out of her sadness and back to reason, though, Kurosaki's plan backfired as Rukia only sunk deeper under the weight of her guilt at failing to beat Halibel, which was now compounded by her failure to be honest with Ichigo.

"She was right," the dark-haired Soul Reaper sighed, looking away from her loved one. "I _am_ a disgrace."

As Ichigo glanced over and saw Halibel lying on the ground, it only took him a few heartbeats to piece everything together. When he turned his eyes back to Rukia, his harsh frown had been replaced by a look of compassionate understanding.

"Rukia," he said, his strong but mellow voice compelling the shamed Kuchiki to look up at him. Her eyes were wide, apprehensive and almost child-like; Ichigo would have even found the expression cute if it hadn't been so heartbreaking.

"Listen to me, midget," Kurosaki continued, relieved when the nickname brought a frown to her face.

"You just faced down the Second Espada and came out alive. She beat Toshiro half to death and almost got the best of Captain Ukitake, Rukia; don't be ashamed that you lost to her. That doesn't make you a disgrace in the slightest, and if I ever see you beating yourself up over it again I…"

Ichigo found his tirade truncated unexpectedly by a passionate kiss, and decided that Rukia had gotten the point as he relaxed and reciprocated. Several seconds passed before they broke apart, the bond between them that had wavered only moments before now reaffirmed, and stronger than ever.

"You talk too much, idiot."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper smiled at that, and took Rukia into a gentle, calming embrace.

"Don't you ever go off like that again without me, okay? And don't say that you were trying to prove you could take care of yourself," he preempted, shutting the young Kuchiki up before she had even begun. "The whole point of being in a relationship is trusting the other person to have your back at all times. I know you're strong enough to protect me when I do something stupid, Rukia; you don't have to prove anything to me, ever. You got that, short-stack?"

Kuchiki smiled, something that Kurosaki couldn't see, but heard in her reply nonetheless.

"Of course I do, you idiot," she answered. "Unlike you, my skull isn't a foot thick."

"Very funny," Ichigo said dryly, before rising to his feet and pulling Rukia up with him.

"Let's go home."

Rukia looked over at the Arrancar, who was beginning to stir, and her grip on her loved one's shoulder tightened.

"What're you going to do about her, Ichigo?"

The brown-eyed Soul Reaper smiled cryptically.

"I wouldn't worry about her, Rukia," he replied lightly. "It looks to me like someone's coming to take care of her."

The pair promptly vanished at the speed of Ichigo's _bankai_, leaving Halibel alone in the clearing. A few moments later, another figure appeared with a buzz and stood over the prone Arrancar.

"What did you get yourself into this time, kid?"

The former Second Espada forced herself to roll over, blinking a few times to clear the hazy image above her and recognizing the very familiar face.

"Stark," she said evenly, but with the faintest hint of a smile.

The former First Espada grinned back.

"The one and only."

Halibel was about to ask her comrade just how he had gotten out of the Maggot's Nest when another face popped into view, wearing a huge grin despite the slightly haggard look on her face and the messy condition of her short, bright green hair.

"Hey there, Halibel! Long time, no see!"

The blond Arrancar sighed, wishing that she could pass out again.

"Lilinette," she greeted impassively, with an undercurrent of sarcasm. "You're still perky as ever."

The young fraccion sighed, putting her hands on her hips and pouting childishly.

"You never lighten up, do ya?"

Halibel's eyes narrowed, a look Stark knew all-too-well. Sliding deftly in between the two females, the former First Espada scooped up his green-eyed comrade and, ignoring her uncharacteristic exclamation of protest, held her in his arms as Lilnette opened up a _garganta_. Before he stepped through it, however, Stark sought out Ichigo's potent reiatsu and formed a bridge between himself and the frighteningly powerful Soul Reaper.

"_Thank you for sparing her, Kurosaki._"

The Arrancar heard a carefree chuckle echo in his head, and smiled.

"_Don't worry about it,_" Ichigo's voice replied. "_Let's just say you owe me one, and leave it at that._"

"_Fair enough._"

Severing the connection, Stark stepped through the _garganta_, followed closely by his fraccion, who closed it behind them like a curtain.

* * *

Grimmjow arrived at the Shiba household with one final flash-step, cradling his superior's body like it would break in the face of a strong wind. Unohana must have instinctively sensed Soi Fon's weak reiatsu, because she came running out at once and tried to relieve Jaegerjaques of his Captain. The former Arrancar stayed her hand, however, and looked her straight in the eye.

"Heal her," he said, in a gruff voice that was halfway between a command and a plea and heavy with barely-concealed concern. The Fourth Division Captain gave the blue-eyed warrior a placating smile and gently but firmly lifted Soi Fon from his arms before flashing back into the house. Sighing as the combined fatigue of the day's events finally hit him, Grimmjow meandered into the room Unohana had put his Captain in to for treatment and pulled a chair over to her bedside, collapsing into it and falling asleep mere seconds after his hand had subconsciously sought out Soi Fon's, closing around it protectively.

* * *

Ise Nanao woke up from her nap and untangled herself from the arms of her Captain, smirking at the disappointed groan he emitted despite being asleep. Reaching over to the nearby nightstand, the Eighth Division Lieutenant grabbed her glasses and put them on, sighing in relief as the room came into focus. Her mood soon shifted to anxiety, however, when she noticed that the item she had always put next to her glasses, her book of _kido_ incantations, had gone missing. Frowning dangerously, Nanao got up and squared her shoulders with a huff before marching out of the room, determined on finding the thief and teaching them a lesson.

When she found out who it was, though, and what they were doing with the book, all Ise could do was smile as she walked towards the thief, her anger melting away.

Sitting on a couch in the main room of the Shiba house, Yoruichi Shihoin was flipping through pages of the _kido_ book with one hand while the other rested gently on her belly.

"Ye lord, mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march onto the south! That's hado number 31, Shakkaho," she said quietly but intently, before noticing that she wasn't alone. Looking up, the former Second Division Captain beamed a smile.

"Hey, Lieutenant. Sorry I took your book without asking, but I didn't want to wake you and I was sure you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all," Nanao said as her smile widened, taking a seat next to the golden-eyed princess. Realizing what spell she had just heard, the bespectacled Soul Reaper raised a single, elegant eyebrow.

"Don't you think it's a little early to be teaching the little one _kido_, let alone Hado incantations?"

The Shihoin princess gave a particularly feline grin at that, her fanged canines glinting mischievously.

"Gotta start him somewhere, Lieutenant. Besides, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine; it's not like he can speak yet."

Nanao couldn't keep her curiosity in check, and spoke.

"How are you so sure it'll be a he?"

Yoruichi shrugged.

"Just a feeling."

A moment of companionable silence passed before Nanao spoke again.

"So, have you thought of any names?"

Yoruichi gave a small smile.

"Saikafu, maybe."

Ise considered the aptness of the name: One way of writing Saika's name meant catastrophe or calamity, which definitely fit what had happened to the Soul Reapers after the half-demon had showed up again. Saikafu, on the other hand, meant renewal, or rebirth: it honored the name of his father, while simultaneously marking a new beginning.

Before Nanao could say any of these things out loud, however, a large and distinctly unsettled reiatsu appeared very close by. Yoruichi knew it as well as she knew her own, and rose to her feet in an instant.

"Kisuke…" she breathed, before flashing away, no doubt to see what had so upset her best friend. The Lieutenant merely gathered up her book and shuffled rapidly away from Captain Urahara's reiatsu, before it rubbed off on her and ruined her good mood.

The Shihion princess soon stood in front of her blond-haired friend, and was torn between sadness and horror at what she saw. Benihime was unsealed and streaked with blood, the same dark liquid that rolled down his arms before dripping onto the floor. His eyes were still slate-gray, which meant that he hadn't gone as far as to unleash his _bankai_, but the simmering rage that surrounded him like a dark shroud spoke volumes as to what the Twelfth Division Captain had been doing.

"Kisuke?" she asked hesitantly, more than a little disturbed by his seemingly sociopathic attitude at the moment. It was almost like Kisuke was looking straight through her, focusing on something she couldn't see.

"We need to talk, Saika."

The voice was blood and iron, a tone Yoruichi had only heard a few times in her life and one that still sent chills down her spine. It wasn't as ethereally creepy as the voice his _bankai_ gave him, but in some ways it was more unsettling: Urahara was in complete control of his emotions and he still sounded more bloodthirsty than a vampire. Yoruichi spun around and found herself staring right at a single orange eye, which was glittering with something halfway between agony and pure malice.

"Very well."

Urahara vanished and Saika made to follow him, but Yoruichi wrapped a slim hand around his wrist and held him fast.

"Saika," she said, trying not to sound pleading. "What's going on?"

The half-demon prince averted his gaze, pulling his wrist from her grasp.

"I'm sorry, Yoruichi," he said lowly, before vanishing. The purple-haired princess felt herself go lightheaded with confusion and anger at being left on the outside of something that was clearly important, walking slowly over to a chair and sinking into it with a sigh. What the hell was going on?

The ex-Captain was pulled out of her thoughts abruptly when she felt a tremor rise up from within her, but it also felt like it was outside of her. The expectant mother quickly connected the dots and placed a hand on her abdomen, tracing gentle circles as she murmured softly to her unborn child. The tremor soon calmed, and Yoruichi sighed heavily. He wasn't even out of the womb yet, and already her son had been affected by the mercurial moods of the two most important men in her life.

"I know," she whispered, "I know. It'll be all right, little one. Trust me."

* * *

"How long have you known?"

Saika met the steely stare and set his jaw defiantly.

"Known what?"

Kisuke sprung forward with a savageness that caught the demon prince completely by surprise, pinning him against the wall.

"You know what I'm talking about, Saika! Benihime told me that your days were numbered; how long have you known you were going to die? Was it before or after you took Yoruichi's heart away from her? You're just going to break it again, you bastard!"

Saika wanted to shatter that bitch of a zanpakuto into a million pieces, but he knew that countering rage with rage never ended well.

"You misunderstood her, Kisuke," Aron replied as calmly as he could with a hand around his neck. "I'm not going to die soon, something much worse is going to happen to me. Ask your harlot of a sword if you don't believe me."

Urahara's grip around his neck slackened, and Saika watched with bemusement as the emotionally turbulent Captain closed his eyes briefly to commune with his zanpakuto. His eyes opened against shortly thereafter, most of his anger replaced with detached, almost scientific curiosity.

"All right," he said as he exhaled wearily, "I'll believe you. But if you're not going to die, then what the hell was Benihime talking about?"

The orange-eyed half-demon frowned, angry at having to revisit such a painful truth again so soon after it had shattered him the first time.

"You might want to sit down," Saika began.

A few minutes later, Kisuke's mouth had dropped slightly in shock and most of his anger had faded into the background, but something still rankled him.

"As sympathetic as I am to your… situation, Saika," he said, "do you realize how selfish you're acting?"

"Trust me," the prince shot back, "if I had any other option I would choose it in an instant, but I don't. You do understand I'm talking about Yoruichi's life here, right?"

"Believe me, I do," the blond Captain insisted. "But even if she survives this, you're leaving her broken-hearted and without a father to raise her child, which is your responsibility as much as it is hers."

"You think I don't realize that?" Saika answered, anger spiking in his voice. "The last thing I want is to do to that kid what my father did to me, but it's much more important that the child have its mother than its father."

Urahara's face was impassive.

"I hope you know how weak that sounds, Aron."

The half-demon prince all but snarled, barely keeping his temper in check.

"If you can think of a perfect solution, I'm more than willing to listen."

Kisuke could only shrug.

"I never said there was one," he answered, "but I would at least tell Yoruichi what's going on… if she's going to have to deal with losing you, it'd be best if she knew why, rather than being left in the lurch and possibly blaming herself for something completely out of her control."

Aron was silent for a few tense moments before he sighed, gripping his hair with both of his hands.

"You're right," he admitted. "Still, either way this sucks."

The Captain sighed.

"Them's the breaks, my friend," he said, pitying Saika's plight even as he hated him for breaking Yoruichi's heart _again_. It wasn't like he had a choice in the matter, but still…

"Oy!"

The shout got Urahara's attention and he blinked, embarrassed. Clearly he had missed something important.

"Sorry, what was that?"

Saika gave a bittersweet smirk, as if he had read Kisuke's thoughts down to the letter.

"I said, you're going to have to look after her once I'm gone. I'm going to ask Byakuya to be the kid's godfather, but you know Yoruichi better than anyone else, even me. If there's one person who'll be able to help her through this, it's you."

Once again the Twelfth Division Captain felt like a schizophrenic, torn between solemnity and happiness. As always, though, he reined in his emotions and nodded gravely.

"I understand."

Aron got up, inclining his head curtly.

"That's good to hear. If you'll excuse me, I'm off to break the news to Byakuya before I go get eviscerated by a certain black cat."

Urahara couldn't help but give a small chuckle at the image.

"Good luck."

"Thanks," Saika replied, chuckling in kind. "I hope I don't need it, but knowing my life, I'll need more than you can give me."

* * *

"Byakuya, get up. You've been lying there for hours."

When the man lying next to her did nothing more than give a childish moan of refusal and pull the blankets tighter around him, Kuukaku smirked and decided to bring out the big guns. She was one of the only people who knew of this particular weakness, and she was prepared to exploit it to its fullest extent. Snaking her good arm under the blanket, she ran the tips of her fingernails over the left side of the elder Kuchiki's abdomen, right below his ribcage.

The reaction Shiba got was even better than she had expected, probably because the man hadn't been tickled since they'd been together so many years ago. Jerking like he'd been hit with four shots of _byakurai_, Byakuya shot up into a sitting position and glared at Kuukaku, who only laughed harder when she saw how cute his disheveled hair made him look.

"You should see the look on your face," she forced out in between laughs. "It's perfect."

"Somehow, I do not believe I'm missing much. Please tell me you have something to discuss, and did not wake me just for the sake of doing so."

The sea green-eyed woman frowned before playfully ruffling Byakuya's well-kept tresses, another thing she knew annoyed him to no end.

"You're always so uptight, Byakuya. Aren't you going to let yourself unwind, now that the Four Noble Houses technically no longer exist?"

Kuchiki arched an eyebrow at the unexpected question.

"What do you mean?"

Kuukaku huffed, muttering something that sounded like 'And you call _me_ stubborn' before raising her voice and speaking directly to her former fiancé.

"When the Seireitei crumbled, the Nobility crumbled with it. The Families ceased to exist, Byakuya. As far as Soul Society is concerned, you're just a guy who happens to have the last name of Kuchiki.

"What I'm asking you is if you'll finally drop this icy, regal bullshit routine of yours, now that you don't have appearances to keep up."

The head of the Kuchiki clan, which now numbered a total of two people, was silent for several moments as he stoically appraised the woman sitting crossed-legged next to him. Kuukaku found herself becoming more and more tense as each second ticked languorously by, but right when she was about to snap something soft and fluffy slammed into her face and bowled her over.

"What the hell was that?" Shiba barked as she sat back up on the bed, only to find Byakuya looking back at her with an unsettling gleam in his eye, a small smirk on his face and a pillow clutched in his hand.

"Does that answer your question, Kuukaku?" he asked, with just enough amusement in his voice to piss off the woman beside him. If there was one thing the elder Kuchiki knew how to do, it was push Shiba's buttons.

"Why you little…" she growled, picking up a pillow of her own and lashing out at the grey-eyed man. Byakuya flashed away at the last possible moment, reappearing off of the bed, standing right behind Kuukaku.

"You were always so predictable," he said as smugly as he could without laughing, and was going to continue taunting the delightfully temperamental Shiba when he felt Saika's reiatsu at the door and his playfulness vanished at once, his mask back in place.

"I have business to attend to, my Lady," he said formally, "but I will return shortly."

Before Kuukaku had even been given enough time to protest, Byakuya was gone.

* * *

The air was still for a few moments as the Sixth Division Captain absorbed what he'd just been told, until he broke the silence almost hesitantly.

"What would you have me do, my friend? It appears that your situation is, regrettably, inescapable."

"I know that, Byakuya," Saika replied with a touch more force than he had intended, sighing in exasperation as he regained control of his temper.

"Look," the half-demon prince amended, "I'm sorry I snapped at you, and no, I didn't call you here because I needed a shrink. When my kid is born, I want you to be his godfather."

Kuchiki was quiet once again, simply nodding his acceptance; a feeling of fatalistic finality had settled over the room, and the Captain was loath to break it. There was one thing that piqued his curiosity, however.

"How do you know the child will be a boy?"

Saika could only shrug.

"Just a feeling."

With that, as smoothly as he had come Aron vanished, no doubt off to break the grim news to his loved one.

* * *

Urahara had just managed to get himself back to a state of relative emotional equilibrium when he felt distraught reiatsu speeding towards him like a cheetah. Soon enough Yoruichi had appeared in front of him, saying nothing as she clung to her best friend like her life depended on it. No words were spoken by either of them, because none were needed: Kisuke knew exactly what his friend required, and he was more than willing to give it. She shed no tears, and barely made any movement whatsoever, but Urahara could tell that Yoruichi was incredibly upset.

No doubt Saika had dropped the bombshell right on her unsuspecting head, and the Shihoin princess was still reeling from it. After several moments, the golden-eyed woman sighed and spoke, her voice unusually hollow.

"It's not fair."

Urahara tightened his end of the embrace ever so slightly, hoping to convey his support, before replying.

"I know," he said, "but that's life for you. Think about it like this: would you have preferred that Saika had just left you a note and vanished off into parts unknown, rather than telling you the truth to your face?"

"I guess not," Shihoin replied after a pause, "but that still doesn't make it any easier to take."

"I'm not saying it'll be easy, Yoruichi-san," the Captain spoke as he let her go, pleased to see that her normal resilience shone once again in her eyes.

"Just remember that we're here to help you through it."

A moderate smile was the scientist's reward.

"Thank you, Kisuke," the former Captain said as she turned to leave. "I'll remember that."

A moment later she was gone, and Urahara allowed a smile to pass over his face. The atmosphere was still one of sadness, no doubt, but at least this modicum of hope had been salvaged from the gloom. Yoruichi was still strong, as she would always be, and that was what mattered the most to the Twelfth Division Captain.

"I'll look after her, my friend," he said to no one in particular, "but something tells me she won't need it."

* * *

Ulquiorra had been working up the courage to ask Neliel a very important question for the past few days now, and had finally overcome a very atypical bout of anxiety. Right as he was about to speak to the woman he was currently playing a heated game of chess with, though, a voice sounded in his head that brooked no argument.

"_I have something I must discuss with you, Ulquiorra. Now._"

The former Fourth Espada finished his move and placed Neliel in checkmate, producing a frustrated-yet-endearing growl from the former Third Espada. Before she could challenge him to another rematch, though, Schiffer lifted a hand to stop her.

"There is something I must take care of," he said levelly. "I hope you won't mind postponing your next loss for a while."

"You're just trying to weasel out of getting beaten this time," the green-haired Soul Reaper retorted, and Ulquiorra flashed an incredibly rare smirk before vanishing.

When he arrived by Saika's side, Schiffer noticed that Grimmjow had also been summoned.

"No doubt you two are wondering why I have called you here, when you two are no longer technically mine to command," the half-demon prince said.

"The reason is that I'm not going to be here for very much longer, and I wanted to square some things away with you guys before I left. First and foremost, consider any debts or obligations either of you feel you owe me to be dealt with; I'm not going to be around, so no one would be here to collect on those anyway.

"Also, I must ask you two to not follow me where I must go; your place is here now, with the people you love, not buried among the damned.

"It was an honor to have known and to have fought with each of you, and I can only hope that Fortune is less of a bitch to you than she has been to me."

With that Aron vanished, leaving the two former Espada more than a little confused. Grimmjow was the one to break the silence, his tone surprisingly devoid of his trademark growl.

"Guess that makes sense," he said, with a tinge of melancholy in his voice. "The General never struck me as a guy who liked goodbyes."

As Jaegerjaques flashed away, Ulquiorra did some reflecting of his own.

"Wherever you're going, Aron-sama," he said, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

* * *

Saika stopped flash-stepping in the middle of a city street, making sure that he was surrounded by nothing more than empty, condemned buildings and the husks of the buildings-to-be that would replace the derelict ones once construction was finished. Hopefully this far out, no one would get injured while he did what he had to do. Sitting down with his legs crossed, the demon prince put one hand to the ground and concentrated as hard as he could, sending his message through the spiritual barriers that separated the Human World from Hell. Once he was sure it had gone through, Aron rose to his feet and drew his sword. Seconds afterwards, he felt another presence materialize behind him. Not even turning around, he addressed the new arrival.

"Hello, Aizen."

The former Captain's voice was just as calm, and as courteous as always.

"Prince Aron. I was wondering how long it would take you to issue your challenge."

Saika turned around, facing his enemy head-on.

"You'd be surprised how liberating it is to have absolutely nothing to lose," he said nonchalantly, and Sosuke smiled.

"Shall we see if that freedom makes your blade any sharper, Prince? It seems quite dull to me."

Aron smiled.

"I guess you shouldn't have stopped wearing those glasses, then." The smile then vanished from his face completely, replaced by a grim line of determination.

"Prepare yourself, Aizen!"

With that Saika charged, and the clash of their blades resounded throughout the desolate ghost town.

* * *

**A/N:** Man, that was a tough chapter to get onto the page, sorry it took so long. Halibel's fight with Rukia and Urahara's conversation with Saika were the hardest parts to get right, so I hope those came across at least palatably. Also, don't freak out over Byakuya's OoC-ness towards Kuukaku—as soon as Soul Society gets its bearings again, you can bet Kuchiki will be back to upholding the laws and setting the standards of behavior like he always has. Then again, it might take a while for that to happen; you never know. Also, if Orihime struck any of you as too soft of a character in the beginning of the chapter, don't worry... she'll be back on the horse next time.

I also felt kind of cheap writing Halibel, Stark and Tosen out like that, but they'll be back for sure later on, most likely in the sequel. There's probably only going to be about two or three more chapters to this story, so to all of you who have come this far and offered words of encouragement and suchlike, thank you very much.

Oh, and drop a review. Every time you do, an angel gets its wings.


	19. Requiem

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Bleach, or any of its characters. They belong to Tite Kubo. I do, however, own the idea behind this story in particular, as well as my OC(s). So don't use them without first asking me, if you would be so kind.

**A/N (AKA Shout Out): **Also, be sure to check out the story "A Rose by Any Other"... it's an IchixRuki crackfic I collaborated on/co-authored with the fantastical MatsuMama, and it's awesome (she brought out her A-plus game). So give it a look, and be sure to leave a review to let us know what you thought!

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 19:** Requiem

* * *

Rangiku shifted sluggishly as she tried to find a good position to sleep in, her eyes closed and breathing subdued. As soon as she felt the empty, cold space next to her, though, the Soul Reaper's eyes snapped open and she sat up, a reflex honed over years of going to sleep next to a certain silver-haired someone and waking up alone. When her eyes found him standing at the window, Matsumoto relaxed somewhat, but the panic didn't drain completely from her face.

"Geez, Gin," she half-whined, blinking her eyes to clear her vision, "you scared me for a sec—"

The Lieutenant's words froze on her tongue as she saw that not only was Ichimaru wearing nothing above his waist, but a grisly tapestry of scars criss-crossed over his back, white lines contrasting sharply with his lightly-tanned skin. Some were bigger than others, and had cut deeper, but each gash sent a slight shiver down Rangiku's spine no matter what size it was. What in the name of all that was holy had he done to earn those wounds?

The former Captain turned around when he heard his oldest friend trailing off, his garnet eyes giving her a searching look.

"What's wrong, Rangiku?"

Matsumoto paused for a moment, trying to force her tongue to work again. When her voice finally emerged, it struck a chord somewhere in between disbelief and horror.

"How did you get so many scars, Gin?" she asked, and her friend stood still for several heartbeats. His brow was furrowed in thought, as if he was debating whether or not to say anything. Matsumoto didn't want to press Ichimaru for information if he didn't want to discuss the baggage it would bring along with it, and she shook her head.

"Never mind," the Lieutenant said, sighing as she sunk back down onto her pillow. She should have expected that someone like Gin would have secrets that no one else would ever know, but after everything they'd been through and shared together it still felt like a punch in the gut that he didn't trust her completely.

Rangiku was about to drift back to sleep when she felt a pair of wiry, but strong arms encircle her and she let herself be pulled into a surprisingly gentle embrace. Usually when they had been children, his touch, when it had been given at all, was cold and aloof, as if he was afraid of becoming truly attached to her.

Maybe, she thought, as a smile graced her face, he had changed after all.

"It's all right," he whispered, the mocking undertone dropped from his voice as the silver-haired man spoke softly, like he had back when they had been a pair of urchins with no one but each other.

"I'm done keeping secrets, Rangiku," Gin continued. "If there's anything you want to know, just ask."

Matsumoto twisted around, her smile widening as she met Ichimaru's red eyes with her own grayish blue pair.

"I'm not going to force you to say anything you don't want to, Gin," she spoke softly, running a hand tenderly along his cheek. "But whenever you're ready to let some of those memories go, I'll be here to listen."

The former Captain smiled at those words, but it wasn't the fake smile he wore sometimes to misdirect or intimidate someone; it was a genuine smile, laced with relief and happiness, and the first one Rangiku had seen him show in ages.

"That's good to know, Ran-chan," he said lightly, closing the negligible distance between them and placing a gentle, loving kiss on her lips. After a moment he made to pull away, but the strawberry-blonde had very different ideas, lacing her fingers together around the back of his neck and holding Gin in place. She smirked mischievously, a twinkle flashing in her eye.

"And just where do you think you're going, mister?" the Lieutenant asked, and Ichimaru smirked in kind.

"I guess I wouldn't mind being held here a little longer, Rangiku," Gin said smoothly as he leaned back in, being sure to close the door with a well-aimed _kido_ before he got too carried away.

* * *

Toshiro opened his eyes slowly, groaning as he felt the joints pop in his back as he shifted instinctively. He stopped dead when he felt something tug at his hand, and the Captain's eyes widened considerably when he saw that his right hand was still intertwined with Karin's. The hazy memories of the morning's fight rushed back to him with crystal clarity, and suddenly Hitsugaya ached in places he didn't even know he had muscles. Groaning out of reflex, Toshiro cursed the day he had ever been stupid enough to shatter his own zanpakuto; he never wanted to go through what it had taken to get Hyorinmaru back ever again.

The white-haired Captain froze again as he felt Karin's hand twitch in his grip, and turned his head to look into her coal-dark eyes as they fluttered open lethargically. She seemed much more at ease with the situation, flashing a smile at the petrified Captain.

"Hey," she said lazily, before noticing the look on his face and arching a curious eyebrow.

"What's wrong, Toshiro?" the dark-haired Kurosaki asked. "You look like you saw a ghost or something."

Hitsugaya realized how ridiculous the expression on his face probably looked and he closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head sharply to bring himself back to some semblance of calm.

"Sorry about that," he said a moment later, as evenly as he could. "You caught me off-guard, that's all."

Kurosaki could see the lingering unease in Toshiro's strikingly sharp eyes, but she knew better than to grill someone like him with questions. It didn't escape her notice, however, that the young Captain relaxed as soon as her hand slipped away from his. Filing this away for future reference, Karin tried to kill the tension in the room, which had gotten so thick at this point it might as well have been a concrete wall.

"So, Toshiro…" she began, trying not to sound awkward, "what do you like to do in your free time?"

Hitsugaya grunted disdainfully at the very notion of free time.

"A Captain of one of the Thirteen Divisions should have no free time if they're doing their job right."

Karin fought as hard as she could to keep from rolling her eyes and failed, getting up from the bed and turning away from Toshiro so that he couldn't see the gesture. Taking off the dirty, bloodstained coat she'd lifted from the dead gangster back in the Rukongai, the young Kurosaki arched her back like a cat and sighed in relief as her stiff joints limbered up again. Turning her attention back to the kid who clearly took life way too seriously, Karin squared her shoulders and settled in for the long haul.

"All right," she began, "maybe I can believe you on that. But if you hypothetically had some free time, what would you see yourself doing?"

"Picking up Matsumoto's slack, like I always do."

Karin almost growled, and felt Hyorinmaru utter a faint apology in her head.

This was going to take a while.

* * *

In the Human World, two titans clashed in the settling dusk. But rather than engaging in a frenzied, whirling firestorm of a duel, the warriors fought with all the methodical precision of two chess masters. Aizen had never succumbed to bloodlust-driven brashness before in his life, and he was certainly not going to lose his head to pointless aggression in this crucial battle. Saika might have normally fueled his strikes with burning emotion, but at this point he was so detached from his feelings that the only thing residing in his soul was frozen, bitter hatred. His strikes were accordingly subdued, smoldering with wrath rather than blazing with fury.

So the two men dueled, barely moving further than six feet from each other and trading verbal barbs almost as frequently as sword slashes.

"Tell me, Prince," Aizen spoke calmly as he deflected a blow aimed for his heart, "how does it feel to know that you're going to leave your son an orphan, like your father before you?"

Saika grit his teeth and ripped through yet another illusion of Yoruichi before slashing his nemesis once again. It was almost unnerving how easily he cut down what had once stopped his blade entirely, but the half-demon prince shoved that thought far from his mind as he replied to the traitor's taunt.

"How does it feel to know that even if you kill me here, your victory will be utterly hollow, Sosuke?"

Aizen raised an eyebrow in amused curiosity, a smirk crossing his face as he parried another sword stroke with the effortless grace of a dancer.

"Oh, really? Please enlighten me, Prince Aron."

"If I die here," the one-eyed warrior elucidated, "my soul will descend to Hell immediately, where I will take back my throne while you deal with my friends. And when they kill you, which they most certainly will, and you come racing down to join me in the abyss I will be waiting for you, Aizen. And trust me when I say this: your pain at my hands will be indescribable."

Sosuke laughed at that pronouncement, a deep, rich sound that still somehow managed to scrape against Aron's ears like razor wire.

"What's so damn funny, you bastard?" the Prince asked. The brown-eyed man did not answer him immediately, but drew the moment out with multiple parries and counterattacks before replying, a sly smile curving his lips.

"Who says I'll ever join you in Hell, Prince?"

The half-demon was in the midst of comprehending that Pandora's Box of a statement when his enemy knocked him backwards with a surprisingly powerful strike, following the attack up by raising his free hand to his forehead and pulling it down swiftly.

Saika was taken aback by the white mask, the right eye of which was framed by a green hexagon that matched the _tsuba_ of the former Captain's zanpakuto. Dark yellow irises surrounded by inky blackness replaced Aizen's genteel, almost regal eyes before narrowing in anger and primal anticipation.

"_Shall we begin?_" he spoke in an unearthly tone, and Aron allowed himself a grim smile.

"Sounds like fun. _Bankai!_"

When the transformation completed, the demon prince flexed his wings forged of raw reiatsu and tensed into his stance, muscles rippling with barely-restrained power. The pair of warriors closed the distance between them once again, and Saika could only hope that no Hollows were drawn to their duel by the sheer amount of spiritual energy leaking from their strikes.

As his attacks became more and more aggressive due to the buildup of energy inside of him, Aron realized that his enemy had been trying to goad him into his _bankai_ state from the start. Saika knew that if he stayed this way for too long his attacks would get sloppy and he would be wide open, a weakness that Sosuke Aizen knew how to exploit better than anyone.

"_Hado number 4: Byakurai_."

The _kido_ spell jolted the demon prince out of his thoughts, and if he had waited a split-second longer to sidestep the bolt of lightning he would have wound up with one less lung. Unfortunately for Saika, that dodge was exactly what Aizen had been waiting for. Before Aron could bring his wings around in front of himself like a shield, Kyoka Suigetsu had carved a deep gash from his right shoulder-blade to his left hip. As he staggered backwards leaving a thick trail of blood in front of him, the demon prince heard the Vizard's voice over the ringing in his ears, sounding like a harsh wind slicing through an icy fog.

"_That's the second time I've failed to cut someone in half,_" Sosuke mused, his voice more curious than angry. "_Is my zanpakuto going dull?_"

Aron boosted his reiatsu up high enough to stop the copious bleeding before he slid into unconsciousness, but the strain was sapping away his energy like a leech on steroids and he could feel fatigue beginning to spread outward from the wound. It was inescapably clear to Saika in that moment that he had to end this duel soon or he was going to die. Gathering up what strength he could spare, the demon prince raised his sword and charged forward once more. Aizen stood as still as a statue and waited for the right moment to strike, a confident, eerie smile on his face.

The two warriors collided, and a massive burst of energy completely leveled the surrounding buildings.

* * *

As the light that had ripped through the deserted cityscape moments before began to dissipate, Saika and Aizen could be seen standing a short distance apart, their backs to each other. Both were breathing hard, but Aron was clearly in worse shape. His _bankai_ shattered instinctively, the blue wings behind him splintering into a thousand shards that fell to the ground, glimmering briefly in the brilliant moonlight before evaporating into the air. The orange energy that glowed from his empty eye-socket dimmed and went out, and his appearance shifted back from more demonic to looking like a normal Soul Reaper. As if to punctuate his grim appearance, the re-opened gash across Saika's chest emitted a spurt of bright red blood as the demon prince's legs went weak under him. As he slumped forward, it was only by bracing himself on his zanpakuto that Aron kept from careening to the ground completely.

"Damn it…" he gasped, feeling the strength leave his limbs as each second ticked by.

The traitor Captain's normally-placid brown eyes were slightly widened with shock as his mask shattered and disintegrated, and a deep gash that had been carved into the shoulder of his sword-arm was all-too-happy to release a burst of crimson onto the pavement.

"Impressive," Sosuke spoke after a few heartbeats had passed between them. "I had figured your strength had left you behind, and yet you managed to land quite a solid strike."

"Shut up," the orange-eyed warrior said harshly as he forced his body to turn around, stand up straight and re-take its stance.

Aizen mirrored the gesture, smiling condescendingly at his opponent.

"Do you really think you can kill me in that kind of shape, Prince? I thought you were smarter than that."

Not replying to the taunt, Aron simply raised one of his arms and extended his hand outwards.

"_Hado number 63: Rai—"_

"_Shakkaho._"

The pure incantation bypass and the searing agony that followed it cut Saika's incantation off abruptly, and a moment passed for the demon prince before he realized that his hand had just been obliterated by Aizen's Shot of Red Fire spell. In the time it took the demon prince to get over the pain coursing through his body, the traitorous Captain had already prepped another _kido_.

"_Hado number 54: Haien._"

The purple flames shot out and engulfed Aron's right leg, turning it to ashes and bringing the once-indomitable warrior to one knee. Sosuke walked forward calmly, drawing Kyoka Suigetsu with one hand while the other pulsed with blue energy.

"It's a shame things had to wind up like this for you, Prince Aron," the traitor Captain mused. "Alone, mutilated, and bleeding to death in a deserted alley a world away from anyone who cares about the fact that your miserable existence is about to end…"

Aizen paused in his speech as Saika raised his good hand, only to have the entire arm severed by a mercilessly precise sword-stroke. Taking a moment to flick the blood from the blade of his zanpakuto and pointedly ignoring the half-demon prince's groans, Sosuke resumed his pseudo-monologue as if he'd never been interrupted.

"… not to mention that the woman currently carrying your bastard offspring is already seeking comfort in the arms of another. How does that feel, Prince?"

As if to drive the insult home, Aizen concentrated for a moment and conjured an image of Yoruichi and Urahara sitting on the porch of the Shiba house, gazing out at the full moon hanging in the sky above them. Aron, rather than be angered, simply snorted.

"Is that supposed to upset me, Sosuke?" he spat. "You and I both know that I have no qualms with whatever Yoruichi decides to do with her life at this point, especially considering that as soon as our kid is born I'd be consumed with the desire to _murder_ her."

Aizen's smile widened, and the true point of his malicious goading became more apparent.

"Ah, but you're assuming that the child gets carried to term in the first place, Prince."

Despite the battered position he was in, Saika summoned enough strength to shoot his enemy a thoroughly murderous glare.

"What are you talking about, you bastard?"

Sosuke chuckled.

"Well, if I told you everything now that would ruin the surprise, and I do so enjoy seeing the looks on people's faces as they witness their worlds crumble around them. Unfortunately for you, Prince," the traitor Captain finished as he raised his zanpakuto once again,

"I'm afraid that you'll be seeing it happen from a much warmer climate."

The demon prince let out a breathy, raspy chuckle.

"You'll be joining me soon enough, Sosuke."

Those were the last words the mortal body of Saika Aron ever uttered.

The brown-eyed Soul Reaper looked down at the now-headless corpse of Saika Aron and couldn't completely restrain a sigh; the former Captain would have been a valuable asset in his plans for conquest, but now all of that potential had vanished completely.

"What a waste," Aizen said disdainfully as he picked up the head of his fallen rival, before turning around and opening a senkaimon with his zanpakuto.

He had pressing business to take care of in Soul Society.

* * *

Ichigo set Rukia down on her own two feet as they approached the Shiba household, knowing that Rukia would derive great pleasure from chopping him into pieces if he let the others see her in such a moment of weakness. Nonetheless, he still forced his loved one to brace herself around his shoulder. The orange-haired Soul Reaper wasn't about to let the stupid midget reopen the wounds he had spent so much energy healing. Mercifully, the younger Kuchiki didn't complain, and actually seemed to lean into him with some degree of contentment. That brought a goofy smile to Ichigo's face, but he wiped it off as soon as he sensed someone approaching.

"Rukia-san, are you all right?" the panicked voice of Hanataro Yamada called out. Soon the perpetually flustered Fourth Division Soul Reaper was upon them, casting a critical eye on her injuries.

"Rukia-san, what happened to you?" Hanataro asked in a shocked tone of voice when he had completed his initial inspection.

"I got into a little scrape, that's all. I'm fine," she grit out, and Ichigo had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as Rukia's pride forced her to call a battle with the former Second Espada a 'scrape'. Yamada knew not to press the short-tempered Kuchiki for a better explanation, but he wasn't about to let her just limp off, either.

"Still, you should probably let me take a look at those wounds, Rukia-san. I might be able to keep them from scarring over if I get started right away."

"I'm fi—what the hell, Ichigo?!"

The young Kuchiki's declaration was unceremoniously cut off by Kurosaki sweeping her up into his arms once again, before she could finish lying through her teeth.

"_Bakudo number 4: Hainawa._"

Tendrils of golden rope bound Rukia's arms behind her back as she wriggled like a hooked fish, but her thrashing stopped completely when she realized what had just happened, and the young Kuchiki turned a pair of stunned violet eyes on a pair of very amused brown ones.

"Ichigo, did you just…"

"Perform an incantation bypass?" his intolerably smug voice answered. "Why yes, Rukia, I believe I did."

"How?"

Ichigo didn't answer the question, instead capitalizing on Rukia's state of relative calm and prodding Yamada on his way. The healer got the hint and dashed off, leaving Kurosaki standing in the clearing by himself.

Well, not quite by himself.

"I see you actually do have some discipline," Byakuya's level voice spoke out, but Kurosaki was sure a smile was buried in there somewhere. Turning to face the new arrival, he shrugged.

"Hey, it was your teaching, Byakuya. Thanks, by the way."

The elder Kuchiki waved a hand dismissively with practiced poise.

"Please, that was but a trifle. Besides, it was worth forcing that _kido_ into your vacuous head to see the look on Rukia's face."

Ichigo's anger at being insulted so casually was swiftly overruled by his shock at the fact that Byakuya had just made a joke.

"Just wait until we get to the _hado_ incantations, Ichigo Kurosaki," the grey-eyed Captain said, with an edge to his voice that sent chills down the orange-haired Soul Reaper's spine. All of the memories in which ropes had bound his arms around his back shifted sinisterly, the glowing bands of energy replaced by the bright, searing flames of _soukatsui_.

"That will be quite enjoyable. For me, at least," Byakuya appended, turning away and preparing to flash-step. Before he vanished, however, Ichigo voiced a question that had been nagging at him since had returned from the woods.

"Where's Saika? Usually I can sense his reiatsu easily, but… I can't feel anything right now."

Kurosaki saw the back of Byakuya's head slump forward momentarily, before rising back up to its accustomed posture.

"If everything has gone according to his plan," the elder Kuchiki's strong voice answered,

"Saika Aron is dead."

Ichigo's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and he wondered for a moment how exactly they were going to take down Aizen without the half-demon's support. He was shaken out of his thoughts, though, when Byakuya spoke again.

"Ichigo Kurosaki."

"Yeah, Byakuya?"

The noble turned his head slightly, fixing a single grey eye on the orange-haired Soul Reaper.

"Thank you for saving Rukia."

Kurosaki was silent for a moment, trying to comprehend why the world wasn't ending right then and there as he heard the stuffy Kuchiki sibling _thanking_ him. Before he could reply, however, Byakuya had vanished in a burst of reiatsu.

Ichigo just chuckled, deciding to practice his reiatsu-sensing skills by following in the wake of the elder Kuchiki's flash-step trail.

He had some _kido_ he needed to learn, after all, and something told him Byakuya wasn't a heavy sleeper.

* * *

Rukia grudgingly opened her eyes and groaned; for promising to heal her, Hanataro had somehow managed to make her feel even worse. Wiping the sleep out of her eyes with her sleeve, the young Kuchiki noticed that she was still clad in the _haori_ of Thirteenth Division. The robe had once felt lighter than air and more comforting than a warm embrace, but ever since her humiliating defeat at Halibel's hands the fabric felt like a cold, constricting weight pressing down on her shoulders. No matter how fervently Ichigo tried to persuade her otherwise, Rukia knew that she had no business cavorting around in a _haori_ for at least another five-hundred years; if she was lucky enough to survive that long, anyway.

Sighing, the petite Kuchiki forced herself to her feet and began to walk towards the calm, potent reiatsu of a certain white-haired, fully-recovered Soul Reaper.

Jushiro Ukitake broke his meditation and looked up as he felt Rukia's reiatsu enter the room, and was surprised to see the melancholy look on her normally untroubled face. The second thing Jushiro saw that surprised him was the immaculately-folded white garment resting in the young Kuchiki's outstretched arms:

It was the Thirteenth Division's _haori_.

"Is something wrong, Rukia?" Ukitake asked as smoothly as he could, knowing how stupid it sounded once it had actually been spoken. The violet-eyed Soul Reaper laid the folded robe down carefully in front of the cross-legged former Captain, sighing in relief as she did so.

"Not anymore, Captain Ukitake, sir," she answered, turning on her heel and beginning to walk swiftly from the room. Right as she reached the doorway, however, a stern voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Rukia."

The young Kuchiki had heard that voice say her name many times, many different ways, but never quite like this. This was the voice of a leader forged through centuries of combat, one who knew that when he gave orders they were obeyed not out of fear, but out of love and respect for his tenacity and skill. Powerless to command her own legs, Rukia found herself turning back to face her now-superior officer.

"Come over here and sit down."

His normally kind brown eyes were as hard as opals and shined just as fiercely. It took Rukia a moment to remember that Ukitake had been cured of his affliction by the wounds the Horseman Pestilence had inflicted on him what felt like a lifetime ago, and had surged back to the pinnacle of his powers. The violet-eyed Soul Reaper understood all-too-clearly that to disobey her powerful Captain now would mean entering into a battle of wills that she had no prayer of winning in a hundred lifetimes, and so she trudged back towards him and sat down, crossing her legs as well and waiting tensely for her rebuke.

But the harsh words she expected did not come. Instead, Jushiro's eyes softened once again and he flashed a smile warm enough to melt Hyorinmaru.

"Now, Rukia," he said affably, "why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

"Nothing is bothering me, Captain Ukitake."

The white-haired Soul Reaper didn't speak for a few moments, looking deep into Rukia's eyes with his own pair of molten brown orbs, as if he was trying to burrow down into the deepest recesses of her soul and dig up the secrets she was keeping buried.

"Hey, look over there!" he exclaimed suddenly, pointing a slender finger towards the corner of the room. The young Kuchiki twisted on instinct, and her still-healing wounds cried out in protest. As Rukia grimaced sharply, Jushiro could only sigh.

"Well, at least I know _those_ are still bothering you," he said tiredly, and Rukia glared childishly at her longtime superior.

"That was underhanded of you, Captain," she said sharply, and Ukitake gave a small smile.

"You don't hang around for as long as I have without picking up a few tricks, Kuchiki. Now," he said as his smile blossomed back to its normal size, "are you going to open up about what's got you down, or should I go looking for my pliers?"

Rukia chuckled despite herself; she could never stay mad at her Captain for very long. But then the weight of her self-loathing came rolling back onto her shoulders, and the chuckle became strained more and more until it had shifted into a broken sigh.

"I seem to have the bad habit of biting off more than I can chew," she said at length, her eyes downcast. "That _haori_ is yours, Captain Ukitake, and I had no right to wear it. Please forgive my hubris."

Jushiro gave a small smile that he knew the young Kuchiki couldn't see, and extended one of his hands out towards her. Placing it gently under her chin, he lifted her face upwards until their eyes were level once again.

"Can I tell you a story, Rukia?" the Captain asked, his voice soft but insistent. The violet-eyed Soul Reaper had no idea where this was going, but she nodded nonetheless and Ukitake took his hand out from under her chin, relaxing back into a normal sitting posture and exhaling. Silence hung between the pair for a few heartbeats, before Jushiro began to speak once more.

"A long, long time ago," the white-haired Captain said, flicking a stray bang out of his face, "shortly after I had begun my third year training in the Academy, Shunsui and I were carousing around in the grasslands outside of the Rukongai after a 4-hour long sake bender with a couple of Kyoraku's lady friends at the time."

Rukia arched an eyebrow at that.

"He had more than one?"

Jushiro couldn't help but chuckle at the look on her face.

"Of course he did, Rukia. Lisa Yadomaru wasn't around to whip him into shape yet back then. Anyway, Shunsui's proclivities are beside the point. What matters is that we were too drunk to control our reiatsu properly, and soon enough a horde of Hollows came barreling down upon us. We managed to defeat them after some struggle, but not without a cost."

"What happened?" Rukia asked, beginning to wonder what this tale had to do with her dwindling sense of self-worth.

"I'm getting to that, Kuchiki. We defeated all of the Hollows without myself or Shunsui suffering any grievous wounds, but the young women we were traveling with weren't so fortunate. Two of them were killed outright, and the last one survived but came away horribly mangled. Shunsui was a wreck for weeks; if you think you're feeling bad, you should have seen Captain Kyoraku in cold turkey."

Rukia gave an involuntary shiver at the image, wondering how painful that must have been not only for the floral-cloaked Captain, but Captain Ukitake as well.

"He would barely talk to anyone, and his depression got so bad that the Old Man finally stepped in."

The young Kuchiki noticed how wistful her Captain's voice became when the late Captain-Commander was mentioned, but she stayed silent, knowing that Ukitake was approaching the point of his story.

"He sat Shunsui down, and told him one very important piece of advice. I am now going to pass it onto you Rukia, as the Captain-Commander is no longer here to say it himself.

"'Every living creature possesses a power of some kind, be it great or small. In keeping with the natural balance of the universe, every power carries with it some kind of weakness or flaw that keeps us humble. It takes very little to ignore those flaws, and much more to admit that they exist.

"'It takes the most willpower of all, however, to have the strength needed to resist falling into their siren song of self-pity and defeatism. If you can accept your flaws, turn them into assets and ultimately rise above them, then you will have become unconquerable.'

"There was no hubris in your acceptance of the _haori_, Rukia," the Captain finished. "You merely lacked the training to overcome your most glaring flaw; the desire to constantly prove your self-worth. This will eat you up from the inside if you let it, Kuchiki. You cannot allow that to happen, and especially not now, when we have a need for all of the strength the remaining Soul Reapers possess."

Anger had been slowly but surely building up inside Rukia and gaining more and more momentum since her Captain had called her out on her weakness, and the fact that he was absolutely right about it did nothing to assuage her. Unable to hold herself in check any longer, the young Kuchiki snapped and railed at her superior officer.

"What do you want me to do about it?" she said, more anguished then angry. "How am I supposed to become stronger if I always wind up getting humiliated? Who can I fight against?!"

Ukitake was unmoved by the tirade, uttering a single word in response.

"Me."

Rukia had not been expecting that response at all, and was stunned into silence for several heartbeats.

"…what?" she asked feebly, when she had regained her voice.

"I would be more than willing to train you, Rukia," the Thirteenth Division Captain explained. "If you would be up for it, that is," he appended swiftly, not wanting to sound like he was pressuring her.

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper was shocked back into stillness. Here was one of the most powerful Soul Reapers alive, offering to take his time to train someone like her? But…

"Why?" she asked. "Why would you take the time to train me?"

"There're ways to become stronger that don't involve throwing yourself headfirst into suicidal duels, Rukia," Jushiro replied patiently, although frustration was beginning to seep into the edges of his voice.

"I thought Kaien taught you at least that much."

Her breath caught in her throat at the mention of her old mentor, but the young Kuchiki quickly got over it, swallowing pointedly and nodding. Her Captain was right; if Kaien had been sitting in this room, he would probably be giving her a headlock right now and telling her to snap out of it before he started giving her a noogie. Flashing a smile in spite of her mood, Rukia looked her Captain square in the eyes, the fire long-since lacking in her own returning with a vengeance.

"I would be honored if you would train me, Captain Ukitake-sensei!"

Jushiro laughed, the warm sound buoying Rukia's spirits up even further.

"That's what I like to hear, Kuchiki! But it's rather late in the day to begin now," he qualified, looking out at the starry sky through the window.

"What do you say we start tomorrow, with the sunrise? You should go get some rest for now; I have a feeling the next few days are going to be anything but calm if Aizen begins to move in earnest."

Rukia nodded and rose, practically sprinting out of the room. Ukitake sighed and shook his head, a small smile on his face as the _haori_ shifted its size in response to his reiatsu and he put it on once again.

"Kids these days," he mused, before rising in kind to brew himself a pot of tea.

* * *

_The Human World: Kurosaki Residence_

Yuzu sat watching the TV, an almost glazed look in her eyes. It was tough finding anything to do around the house, with Karin gone for good and Ichi… well, she didn't know quite what had happened to her brother, but her dad had remained quite silent on the subject. The youngest Kurosaki heard something that sounded somewhat like a cough next to her and looked over, her eyes flashing with happiness as she saw what had appeared beside her.

"Bostafu!" she fairly squealed, lunging and trapping the altruistic mod-soul in an embrace. Kon tried to grimace, but couldn't bring himself to do it; if Ichigo wanted to leave comforting duties to him _again_, he could handle it. The last thing he wanted was to see Yuzu crying again, the poor kid.

Yuzu was so preoccupied with her stuffed companion that she was completely oblivious to the rather heated discussion her father was engaging in over the phone.

"Damn it, man, I'm only going to say this one more time before I come over there and kick your ass myself! I'd go, but I have to take care of Yuzu now that Karin's over in Soul Society with Ichigo! Leave her at Urahara's shop? Are you kidding me?! Absolutely not… I don't even know why we're arguing about this! I have responsibilities here, and you don't! Simple as that! Besides," Isshin finished with a flourish, "you still owe me for introducing you to…"

"Say that name and I _will_ kill you," the cold voice replied on the other end, and Isshin fell silent.

"… I'll do it," the voice continued, "but we are _beyond_ even, Kurosaki."

The Kurosaki patriarch smiled on his end of the line.

"Understood. Safe travels, and say 'Hi' to Ichigo for me!"

"Go die in a fire, Soul Reaper."

The line went dead after that, and Isshin shook his head as he hung up.

"Man," he mused, "that guy needs to get laid."

* * *

_Soul Society: Shiba Household_

Rukia lay in bed slumbering, a contented smile on her face. Her Captain had just offered to train her personally; she didn't feel nearly as worthless now as she had earlier in the day; her wounds had pretty much healed and the guy lying next to her was far and away the best bed-warmer ever. Life was good.

And the dream she was having wasn't too shabby either.

Standing alone on a grassy hill… or rather, _the_ grassy hill, with the sun shining down on her face and surrounded by happy memories. The only thing that was missing was…

"Oi, Kuchiki!"

Rukia spun around and found herself staring into the face of the only person who had managed to change her life as thoroughly as Ichigo had, for better and for worse:

Kaien Shiba.

She almost allowed herself to smile, but then Rukia saw the glove on his left hand and was immediately on alert, reaching for the zanpakuto she wasn't even wearing out of instinct. Kaien started for a moment when he saw her reaction, but then relaxed and smiled, reaching for the glove with his free hand and pulling it off, to reveal…

A perfectly normal, human hand.

"Ta-da!" he said triumphantly. "Nothing up my sleeve, Kuchiki. You can relax; just because the most vivid memories you have of me are the ones where I'm wearing this freakin' ridiculous outfit, that doesn't mean I'm an Espada in disguise!"

Rukia's stance sagged in spite of her resolve, and she huffed childishly.

"Don't do that to me, Kaien-dono!" she fumed, and the elder Shiba just laughed before closing the distance between them, kneeling slightly so that they were eye-to-eye, and putting his hand lightly on her head.

"It's good to see you again, too, Kuchiki," he said sarcastically, before sticking his tongue out erratically and ruffling her hair just enough to infuriate the violet-eyed Soul Reaper and running away like a mischievous teenager.

"Why you little…!" Rukia seethed, a veneer of anger lightly shrouding the warmth she felt rising up in her heart. Taking off after her former mentor, the young Kuchiki couldn't help but think of the sweet retribution she was going to wreak on that infuriating man…

* * *

Back in Soul Society, the sleeping form of Rukia Kuchiki shifted from grimacing and trembling slightly in her sleep to going still, before tensing, rising out of the bed and then commencing to sleepwalk to the door and then through it, outside into the still night.

Behind her, standing in the shadowed corner of the room, a white-clothed Soul Reaper smiled maliciously before walking silently over to the empty space on the bed and putting the severed head he was carrying down on the pure white linens, smirking as they were stained with black blood. Kurosaki was in for quite the surprise when he woke up…

Turning sharply and following the departing Kuchiki, Sosuke Aizen allowed himself a moment to marvel at the potency of Kyoka Suigetsu's 'Complete Hypnosis' before he flash-stepped away, making sure to stay close enough to his prey to be able to recast the illusion if it faltered. Creating a stable one inside the turbulent mind of a dreamer was much more challenging than normal, after all.

"Kaien Shiba," the traitor Captain said to himself, addressing the phantom of the departed Soul Reaper, "how useful you have proven yourself to be. Trust me when I say it is most appreciated."

* * *

Rukia chased after Kaien's still-fleeing form, but couldn't help but think that something was off. Her legs were beginning to burn from fatigue, and yet her former mentor was still moving as swiftly as he had been when the chase had started.

"Wait, Kaien-dono," she called out, cursing herself for failing to keep up with him but feeling the fatigue clawing mercilessly at her muscles and forcing herself to admit defeat for her own sake.

Hearing her plea, Kaien slowed down and stopped, not even bending over to catch his breath or rest his muscles.

"Whatsa matter, Kuchiki? Can't keep up?" he asked as Rukia all but limped up next to him, walking abreast of her mentor as he began to move again.

"Jeez, this is what happens when I leave you be and stop pushing you to get stronger," the elder Shiba groused in the half-whine Rukia knew so well.

"Remind me not to die a third time, Kuchiki!"

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper forced herself to chuckle when faced with Kaien's good-natured smirk, but it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Rukia then paused for a moment, wondering why everything felt slightly… _off_ in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on. In an effort to get her mind away from the unnerving feeling creeping up her spine, the young Kuchiki turned to face her mentor.

"So… what are we going to do, Kaien-dono? You didn't just come here to exhaust me, did you?"

The face of Kaien Shiba twisted itself into a smirk that sent a dart of pure fear lancing straight into Rukia's heart. Her instincts were howling at her now to get the hell away from here as fast as possible by any means necessary, but when she tried to move she found that she was completely immobile.

"What the…?" she gasped, a sound which turned into a barely-strangled scream as Kaien and the landscape around her suddenly shattered into pieces, revealing a moonlit plain of grass as the warm sensation of the sun was replaced by the sharp feeling of a chill wind sliding against her pajama-clad form. Rukia felt her nose itch and tried to reach up and scratch it, but her arm still wouldn't move. Looking down to try and figure out why, the scream that had previously been strangled burst out of her throat, driven by sheer terror. The violet-eyed Soul Reaper saw six shafts of golden light pinning her still, and a few seconds later she felt an oppressive reiatsu that froze her movements even further and choked the raw scream into silence. Forcing her head to rise upwards, the young Kuchiki saw the face of the one who had imprisoned her and was seized with disbelief.

"Im—possible!" she choked out, and the man in front of her smiled.

"Improbable, perhaps," the calm, ever-polite voice of Sosuke Aizen replied, "but certainly not impossible."

The traitor Captain eased up on his reiatsu and Rukia found her voice once more, snarling like a caged tiger.

"You should finish me now," she said fiercely, "or I swear to God I'm going to find a way out of this and kill you with my bare hands."

"My, my," Sosuke replied, smiling faintly. "What is it with you Soul Reapers and your absurd threats? You have no zanpakuto, no way to cast _kido_ and no hope of breaking free from my _rikujokoro_. Stop struggling; it will make this whole process that much easier to weather."

As the former Captain drew his zanpakuto and readied it in one smooth motion, Rukia glared daggers at him, a gesture which only intensified as Aizen began to walk towards her with methodically-measured paces. When he was within arm's reach, the violet-eyed Soul Reaper strained towards her enemy with all of her might and spoke with as much force as she could.

"Go ahead and do it, you coward," she spat. "Kill me; I'm not afraid to die!"

Sosuke's smile widened, showing more of his teeth.

"Yes, I was given ample proof of that at the Soukyoku," he answered smugly. "But don't worry, Rukia Kuchiki; I'm not going to kill you. No, I need you as a hostage to draw out that brat Ichigo Kurosaki. However," he finished, raising his sword up,

"Even if you are just a hostage, I need some physical evidence that you are, in fact, in my custody. You won't mind giving this up, will you?"

Rukia barely had time to brace herself for the searing pain before her sword hand was severed, leaving an even stump in its wake. Unable to restrain herself any longer, she broke down in a mangled, discordant fugue of sobs and pain-filled moans.

"Fear not, woman," Aizen's voice said as it cut through the haze surrounding her mind, "this will all be over soon."

Knocking his captive mercifully unconscious with the hilt of his zanpakuto, Sosuke vanished just as the sun began to crest the horizon.

* * *

At the same time Rukia was being led towards captivity, a lone figure passed through a narrow, precise senkaimon and fell to the grassy earth below without as much as a whisper hinting at his presence. Straightening up, the new arrival instinctively brushed at his shoulder and looked around, appraising the dwelling that the few surviving Soul Reapers had chosen as their makeshift sanctuary. It was ridiculously easy to spot, and the man wondered how these scattered Soul Reapers had survived for so long if this was what passed for strategy. The visitor made a mental note to strangle Isshin Kurosaki for making him bear the burden of being a glorified bodyguard; if there was one thing he had no desire to be, it was the protector of a bunch of accursed Soul Reapers.

"Well, I'll be," a smooth voice spoke out from the figure's left. The man spun to face the speaker, shocked that he hadn't felt any reiatsu coming from him.

"If it isn't my favorite little ray of sunshine," Shunsui Kyoraku said as sarcastically as he was able, finishing up a cup of sake.

"What brings you all the way out here…

"Ryuken Ishida?"

The self-proclaimed 'Last Quincy' snorted sharply at the jest, readjusting his glasses out of habit.

"An obligation to a mutual friend, Kyoraku," Ishida replied tersely, "nothing more."

The floral-cloaked Captain sighed, placing a hand over his heart.

"You wound me, Ishida-kun," he said with mock-gravity in his voice. As he poured himself another cup of sake, the Captain's voice shifted back to jovial.

"Hey, come help me polish off this bottle of sake, Ishida. I was going to split it with Rangiku, but she's probably doing something I'd rather not know about with Ichimaru. What do ya say to a drink between friends, for old time's sake?"

"We are no longer friends," came the glacial reply, "and those times are as dead as my people."

Shunsui readjusted his hat, looking into the steely eyes of the Quincy with his equally strong brown ones.

"What happened to you, Ryuken?" he asked, his tone atypically serious. "Where's the man I used to know, the diplomat who tried to stop that horrible war?"

"He is buried, Kyoraku," the Ishida patriarch shot back bitterly, "and he isn't coming back. Not after what happened to my people because I couldn't see past your veil of lies!

"I could have turned the tide in our favor," Ryuken continued with a voice of steel, "but instead I clung to my father's delusional belief that the conflict between us could be solved with words, and not with arms."

Exhaling heavily, Shunsui finished his full cup in a single pull.

"Not all of us supported the directive, Ryuken," he began, but the white-haired Quincy cut him off.

"But all of you drew your swords when the time came. Even the one person who I thought understood my plight, Kyoraku! Do you know how devastating that felt?"

"Yes," a calm voice answered from beyond the pair's verbal sparring, "and to be honest, a part of me feels it still."

Ishida froze like a man who had just stared a gorgon in the face, torn between pure hatred and a lingering shred of deep affection that he had never been able to completely banish from his heart. When he spoke again, his voice had returned to its usual calm, if gruff tone.

"It has been quite some time," he began, turning to face the figure that stepped gracefully into the moonlight,

"Retsu."

The Fourth Division Captain gave a smile somewhere between serene and heartbroken, and Shunsui knew his place was no longer here. Glancing warily at the tense, white-haired Quincy one last time, Kyoraku vanished. When they were alone, Unohana exhaled a breath she had no idea she had been holding and spoke.

"I owe you an apology, Ishida-san," she began, ignoring the scornful sound that passed for a reply and continuing.

"What passed between us constituted a grave error in judgment on my part, and I hope you can find it within your soul to forgive me."

Cold fire flashed in his eyes as Ryuken spoke, his voice barely remaining even.

"An 'error in judgment'? Is that really what I was to you? I seem to recall you proclaiming me as something entirely different all those years ago, Unohana."

"Please, do not do this," the Captain entreated, her crystal-blue eyes flashing in the moonlight. "The only thing that lies in those memories for us now is pain."

"Be that as it may," the Quincy said forcefully, "I have to know. Why did you abandon me, Retsu?"

The Captain was taken aback by the urgency in the question, but quickly mastered herself.

"Many reasons, all of which I failed to see because I was too blinded by an emotion I thought I had long since outgrown. First and foremost, you were, and still are a Quincy; your people would have cast you out like a leper if they had known what we had done. Second, you were, and still are a human; you deserve more than to age next to someone who cannot grow old, and die long before the one to whom you had pledged your love. What we possessed was more fragile than a snowflake, and as volatile as a flame at the end of its life.

"It was a desire we were both foolish enough to fall victim to, Ishida-san, and nothing more."

"I see," the Quincy replied after several strained heartbeats had passed. Silence reigned over the space between the pair, broken only after Unohana had taken some time to choose her next words.

"How is he?" she asked, and Ryuken shrugged dismissively.

"Hopeless. You gave him your compassion, and it has made him soft. He lacks a killer's instinct."

"Some would consider that a boon, Ishida-san."

The Quincy chuckled bitterly.

"Not in times like these, Captain."

The blue-eyed Soul Reaper noted the harshness with which her former lover uttered her title, and a small part of her soul crumbled into dust.

"Does he know?"

"Of course not," was the icy reply. "All he knows of the Soul Reapers is that they are deceitful, selfish beings devoid of any true emotional attachment thanks to their state of virtual immortality. This is a quality that has also lent them a disturbing level of ignorance in regards to the consequences of their actions. In other words, he knows the truth."

"… I see," the Captain replied, in a strained echo of Ryuken's earlier words. "So Uryu…"

"Will never know who, or what he really is, until the day he dies and is forced to make the choice of which path to walk. Or I guess I should say that, at the very least," the Quincy amended, "_I_ will not be the one who tells him of his true heritage. If you wish to open up that particular can of worms, Captain, be my guest."

"Very well," Retsu answered with a weary sigh. She had never expected to have this shard of her past dug up and slammed back into her chest, and for it to happen so suddenly still had a part of her reeling.

"Is there anything else you came here to do besides exhume old shades, Ishida-san?"

Readjusting his glasses once again, the Quincy made sure they sat so that the light would block out his eyes before he replied.

"Isshin Kurosaki decided to call in an old debt, and I am here to repay it. Nothing more, nothing less. If you see me again, Captain," the archer finished right before he flashed away,

"It will be when I emerge to salvage victory from your looming defeat, as the majority of your comrades lay dying."

With that the Quincy vanished, leaving Unohana alone with the weight of her only regret bearing down upon her. Sighing heavily, the Captain flash-stepped to her quarters and laid down to a fitful sleep, plagued with visions of happier times that had come and gone far too rapidly.

* * *

Ichigo was sore in places he didn't even know existed thanks to Byakuya Kuchiki's insane idea of a 'light workout'. Kurosaki could remember five times off the top of his head when he might have died had he been a half-step slower, but at least his _kido_ skill was improving in leaps and bounds.

Groaning, the orange-haired Soul Reaper stirred awake as the sun's rays danced apathetically across his face. The odd feeling produced by the fact that the other half of the bed was cold and empty brought Ichigo out of his dreams much faster than he would have liked. The Soul Reaper sat up sharply, scanning the room quickly to see if Rukia was sitting somewhere before his eyes fell upon the cold, dead object that had replaced the warm, comforting body of his loved one.

The resulting shout of horror ensured that no one else remained asleep for very much longer. A few hectic minutes later, everyone was gathered in the main room of the Shiba household. The general reaction was one of either shock, anger or disgust at Aizen's barbaric message, but anyone with a keen eye noticed that the practiced, stony look Yoruichi had put up was barely concealing a wave of grief that threatened to surge forward and swallow her whole now that the final hope for Saika's return had been crushed. Kisuke put his hand reassuringly on her shoulder, whispered a few words into her ear and the Shihoin princess sighed, gathering herself up again as her expression became much more keen and focused than it had been a moment before.

After he had let the silence hang over the gathering for long enough, Ichigo stopped fidgeting and spoke the question everyone wanted to avoid asking.

"What happened to Rukia?"

The tone was as much self-deprecating as it was genuinely curious; the brown-eyed Soul Reaper was clearly already beating himself up for having failed to protect the one he had sworn to keep from harm. When the answer to his question came, it froze everyone's blood cold.

"Rukia Kuchiki now belongs to me."

Every pair of eyes in the room widened in disbelief and turned slowly to regard the speaker. He stood in the back of the room with a sinister smile on his face, a gesture that was thrown into sharp relief by the faint light.

Byakuya broke the tense quiet, his voice as lethally frozen as anyone present ever remembered hearing it.

"Give me one reason why I should not obliterate you where you stand, you bastard."

Aizen's smile widened.

"I currently have your sister trapped in a _rikujokoro_, Captain," he replied. "That should be reason enough, I believe."

"Like hell!" Ichigo shouted, preparing to lunge at the traitorous former Captain until Byakuya laid a firm hand on his shoulder, holding him still.

"Please try to refrain from getting Rukia killed with that temper of yours, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Ichigo blustered, looking over at his _kido_ teacher and future brother-in-law incredulously.

"What're you talking about, Byakuya?"

"_Rikujokoro_ is a dual-purpose _kido_ spell, Ichigo," Urahara explained. "The rods are initially used to imprison the target, but if enough force is applied they can be made to shear the target in two."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper's eyes dimmed slightly in defeat, and for once he found himself missing Rukia's horrible drawings that normally accompanied such an explanation. Looking for anything to take his simmering rage out on, Kurosaki turned his attention back to Aizen.

"What do you want in exchange for Rukia?" he seethed, and Aizen chuckled breezily.

"You truly are a fool if you think this is going to proceed like a typical hostage exchange, boy. If you do not accept the terms I am about to give, there will be nothing left of Rukia Kuchiki to exchange at all five minutes from now."

Before Ichigo could reply to the haughty proclamation, Byakuya pre-empted him yet again.

"Speak, filth."

"Ichigo Kurosaki will meet me on the plain two miles from here, with precisely one companion, in exactly three hours. If he does not appear at that time, or is accompanied by anyone other than his chosen comrade, Rukia Kuchiki will die. And I can assure you it will not be swift, nor will it be merciful.

"Good luck, human _ryoka_ boy. Oh, and before I forget," he finished,

"Here's a little something to tide you over for the next few hours."

With that Aizen withdrew Rukia's right hand from somewhere within his robes and tossed it to Ichigo, who caught it on reflex before seeing what it was and blanching in rage and disgust. Using the shock that rippled through the room as a cover for his escape, the traitor vanished as quickly and untraceably as he had come. When he realized Aizen had slipped away, Ichigo all but snarled as he ran his free hand through his hair in a failed attempt to control his rapidly-spiking anger. Deciding that he needed some time to think this through alone, the orange-haired Soul Reaper walked out of the room as calmly as he could manage, putting a dent in the wall with his fist along the way. The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, until Gin Ichimaru cleared his throat and spoke.

"I know that a majority of the people in this room will never trust a word that I say," he began, "but I hope those people will take into consideration the fact that I know Sosuke Aizen better than probably anyone else present. I've seen enough of his ploys to know when one is coming, and this reeks of one.

"I would suggest that the person who felt the most compelled to volunteer to be Ichigo's second in the duel make it known to us now; clearly, Aizen is counting on the predictability of someone in this room to play right into his hands."

It was barely a glance. It seemed more like an instinctive understanding between two people born out of something deeper than friendship, or even love. Just by observing each other for the slimmest fraction of a second, each of them knew exactly what was going on in the other's mind, and exactly what had to be done.

"It was me," Kisuke Urahara announced to the gathered Soul Reapers. "I hate to come out an admit it like this, but the kid's kinda grown on me. Well," the Twelfth Division Captain finished, rising from his seat, "I guess that means I'll be takin' my leave. To whoever's crazy enough to go out there, good luck!"

Yoruichi Shihoin felt a lightness come over her as she watched her best friend go out the door that could only be described as a feeling of complete and utter determination. Urhara had unlocked the door for her; now all she had to do was find the courage necessary to open it up and walk through. Getting up from her seat, she left to go search out the Soul Reaper she hoped would allow her to satisfy her desire for the ultimate closure.

The rest of the Soul Reapers could only watch with heavy hearts, knowing exactly what had just happened but also honoring the unspoken code that prevented them from stopping it; even at the expense of their better judgment.

* * *

Ichigo paced around his room like a rabid wolf, and every morbid glance at the severed hand he had been given so callously by Aizen just reminded him even more acutely of his failure. Even though the rational part of his mind knew that this was an attempt to make him angry and unfocused before the duel, his emotional half could not have cared less.

_I'm going to rip that fucker to shreds,_ his Inner Hollow hissed, enraged that someone had dared to steal something so precious from him. Ichigo was jolted out of his rage by a knock at the door, which he didn't so much slide open as pick up and chuck across the room with a clatter. Before the orange-haired Soul Reaper could regain his bearings, a pair of deceptively strong, slender hands had gripped his shoulders like vises, the hold forcing Ichigo to look right into the grim golden eyes of the person directly in front of him.

"Pull yourself together, Ichigo!" Yoruichi half-snarled, putting enough pressure on the soft spots where her thumbs were currently positioned to bring him to his knees with a strained grunt.

"The last thing we need is for you to lose your cool before you even face Aizen," the Shihoin princess continued, once she was sure Ichigo was paying attention. "He's counting on you being a wreck, and no doubt he thinks that as soon as you're out of the picture the rest of us are sitting ducks."

Ichigo nodded solemnly as he rose to his feet, and Yoruichi let up on her hold.

"As much as I appreciate that advice, Yoruichi," the brown-eyes Soul Reaper spoke, "it's obvious that you didn't come here just for that. So what the hell do you want?"

The golden-eyed princess readied herself one final time before actually forming the words; once she declared it, there was no going back.

"I want to be your second at the duel."

Ichigo stood still for a moment, looking over his former teacher with a searching intensity Yoruichi had no idea he was capable of.

"And you say _I'm_ in danger of losing my head…" he mumbled, turning away to go sit on his bed.

She wanted to retort with something, but Yoruichi had to admit that Ichigo had a good point. Was she ready to go into that fight with a clear head, knowing that not only might she not make it out, but also that Aizen already knew she was going to be the one most likely to accompany Ichigo? In an attempt to get her mind off of that loaded question, the former Captain sat down next to the brooding Kurosaki and put her hand gently on top of Ichigo's.

"I'm sorry you have to go through all of this hardship, Ichigo," she said, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze. "Humans like you should at least get to live their first life out in peace before having to worry about stuff like this."

Ichigo took a moment to listen half-heartedly to whatever words of wisdom his former sensei was deigning to share, and was about to shove them from his mind before he thought about them for a few seconds and his eyes widened in shock. He shot straight up like he'd been hit by a bolt of lightning, rising up off of the bed entirely as he was almost overwhelmed by the sudden epiphany. Phrases he had heard in the past came rushing back to him and echoed with a newfound level of clarity. Ichigo almost smacked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

"_In the end, you are still just a human._"

"_A _ryoka _such as yourself would never be able to overcome this gap in power, not even after a hundred years,_"

"_Even I have to admit that for a human, you were quite amusing._"

"_Just a human…_"

"_Human…_"

"That's it!" he called out excitedly, before turning around to face Yoruichi and pulling her to her feet before giving her a huge bearhug.

"You're a genius, Yoruichi!" Ichigo said almost euphorically, before letting his former teacher go and dashing out of the room like his uniform was on fire. The Shihoin princess watched him go with skeptical eyes, wondering if maybe her student had finally gone as crazy as his father.

When she took in the room's newfound silence and began to think, Yoruichi found herself confronting one question over and over, and the Shihoin princess became more and more uneasy as it became chillingly apparent that she had no idea how to answer it.

Why, exactly, did Aizen want or need her to be the one to go with Ichigo to the duel? Why did she matter as much, if perhaps not more, than the one with whom Sosuke would actually be crossing blades?

* * *

Ichigo skidded to a halt in front of the door, drawing the surprised and slightly unnerved stares of the Soul Reapers still in the main room. The orange-haired Soul Reaper's eyes zeroed in on a certain Kuchiki noble, however, and as far as he was concerned no one else was in the room.

"Captain Kuchiki," he said breathlessly, hoping to grab the man's attention by using both his last name _and_ his title,

"We need to talk. Outside. Now."

The noble was so stunned by the fact that the insolent brat had finally addressed him properly that he was certain pigs were going to start sailing through the sky on golden wings. After a quick glance out of a nearby window disproved that fear, though, Byakuya locked onto Ichigo's pulsing reiatsu and flash-stepped towards it. Once he came down from the initial rush that accompanied high-speed movement, the Captain regarded the strangely calm and confident Kurosaki with a skeptical look.

"What is it you wanted to speak to me about so urgently, Ichigo Kurosaki?" he asked, with a part of him unsure if he really wanted to know the answer.

"I know how to do it," he said, his voice more alive and stronger than Byakuya had heard in a long time. "I know how to become more powerful than Aizen."

The elder Kuchiki's tone shifted from one of skepticism to one of surprise and the slightest bit of hope.

"Oh? And prey tell, just how would that be done?"

Ichigo took a breath in, as if what he was going to say required actual physical force behind it. After a heartbeat, he spoke.

"I need you to kill me."

* * *

**A/N: **Before we wrap this chapter up completely, a quick announcement: this story is officially past 100 reviews! Everyone who has reviewed this in the past should give themselves a hearty pat on the back; your continued encouragement and support has made this much less of a Herculean undertaking than it might have otherwise been, and I thank you for it.

The Oscars go out to MatsuMama and blackmedelninjan, who have been with this story since its inception and have consistently given fantastic feedback. A special Jury Prize is also awarded to Spin1978, who dropped the 100th review. Good times.

I hope this story has remained enjoyable, and I'll see you back next time for what's probably going to be the last (Gasp!) chapter, followed by an epilogue.

And last but not least, **please review!** (You didn't think I wanted to stop at 100, did ya?)


	20. Laid to Rest

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach, or its characters. Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own my OC Saika, and all of the other ones that were present in this story but are now mostly dead. Please don't use them without first asking me. Thanks.

**Love Conquers All**

**Chapter 20:** Laid to Rest

* * *

Byakuya stood stock-still for a few moments, trying to comprehend how what he had just been asked to do could possibly be a good thing.

"Now is not the time to act flippant, Ichigo Kurosaki," he finally managed to force out, with a definite undercurrent of menace in his voice, but the orange-haired Soul Reaper remained adamant.

"I'm not being flippant, Byakuya," he insisted, that infernally informal mode of address making a triumphant return.

"Don't you get it?" Ichigo continued. "All of this time, the fact that I'm still human has been putting a major restraint on my powers. If you get rid of it, I should be strong enough to defeat Aizen for good!"

Kuchiki frowned; the plan was simple, direct and might very well work, but it also carried some severe risks along with it.

"You do realize that if you go through with this, the odds are very high that you will lose all memories of your human life, including those of Rukia."

Kurosaki's brown eyes remained as determined as ever, but for the briefest of moments Byakuya could have sworn he saw a flicker of fear behind them before it was promptly squashed.

"I'm willing to take that risk, Byakuya," he shot back. "I would rather see Rukia alive and have no idea who she was than to have memories of a ghost and blood on my hands. Besides, there have been recorded cases of those who have held on to their memories after death, my sister among them. So there's still a chance, I'd remember her, and that enough for me, even if it's a slim one."

The elder Kuchiki almost smiled at Ichigo's determination, but held himself in check. Now was not the time for levity; there would be plenty of that once this chaos had passed them over.

"Have you also considered that raw power is not always the answer to every problem, Ichigo Kurosaki? Your potential, if it is not harnessed and controlled, will mean nothing in the face of Sosuke Aizen's honed skills."

"I know that, damn it!" the orange-haired Soul Reaper snapped back, before sighing and lowering his head slightly.

"Sorry," he apologized, "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. Look, Byakuya," Ichigo continued, his voice regaining its calm determination, "I know that what I'm planning on doing might strike you as crazy, but there're no other options and I'm running out of time. I just need you to trust me on this. Can you do that?"

The steely-eyed Kuchiki sighed; it wasn't that he didn't have faith in the kid; honestly, he found Kurosaki's power and potential both to be obscenely frightening. What bothered him was the prospect of not only _killing_ his future brother-in-law, but possibly screwing it up somehow and having to face a heartbroken, wrathful Rukia as a consequence. That was an outcome he had absolutely _no_ desire to deal with. Reluctantly drawing Senbonsakura, the Captain gave the younger Soul Reaper one last look.

"If this goes wrong, Ichigo Kurosaki…"

"… It was entirely my idea, and Rukia has no grounds for eviscerating you," Ichigo finished, smiling ruefully. "I gotcha covered, Byakuya. Just shut up and make it quick… preferably painless, as well. And, uh, throw up a barrier so that no one feels my reiatsu go out and starts to worry," he added hastily, drawing a bitter chuckle from the elder Kuchiki.

"Do not preoccupy yourself with such thoughts, Ichigo," he said calmly, and the brown-eyed Soul Reaper was stunned at the use of his first name,

"You won't feel a thing. Brace yourself, and count to three."

Ichigo took a deep breath as Byakuya erected a reiatsu-blocking barrier, and said his goodbyes to everyone he could think of as he did so. Once he was settled, the count began.

"One… two… th—"

Kurosaki was cut off before he finished the number three, a sense of lightness pervading his entire body and drowning out all of the pain. A spurt of blood left his body, but Ichigo didn't even feel it depart. Rather than grimace, a chuckle escaped his lips and he smiled at the man who now stood beside him, having executed the first half of a flawless _senka_.

"You sly bastard," he all-but whispered, before the strength in his limbs wilted and he slumped forward, eyes fluttering shut. Byakuya caught the Soul Reaper as he fell forward, laying his body down gently on the grass, face-up. One of the Captain's hands closed Ichigo's now-glassy eyes and he sighed, feeling like hell despite the orange-haired Soul Reaper's unending reassurances that everything would work out fine. Cutting down an opponent in battle was one thing, but this… it had felt akin to butchery, and it made Byakuya's soul heavy with unease.

Unfortunately for him, that weight was about to get much heavier. Byakuya had made the barrier to shield reiatsu from detection, but hadn't made it strong enough to fool a certain someone who was acutely attuned to Ichigo's reiatsu.

"Ichi-nii? Ichi-nii!"

Karin's exclamation of disbelief was muted by shock, but it nonetheless managed to rip sharply through the otherwise-still air. Byakuya was all but toppled to the ground as the frantic Soul Reaper rushed to her fallen brother's side, and after a few tense moments of silence Karin turned her dark eyes up to face the elder Kuchiki, fury smoldering deep within them.

"You…" she choked out, her voice strained. "_You_ did this?! You bastard! _Flash_, Raitori!"

Byakuya knew that Kurosaki's bereaved sister was by no means in her right mind. When faced with this much raw, un-tempered power, however, he had no choice but to defend himself or become grievously injured.

"I was only fulfilling your brother's final request as a human, child," Kuchiki reasoned. "He felt no pain, and will soon return to us. Believe me when I say that I did not murder him."

"Liar!" Karin barked out, striking again and again only to be parried by the peerless grace of Senbonsakura; Raitori's blows were like mighty waves traveling a long distance before crashing on the shore at long last, beginning flush with power, ending broken and impotent. What Karin lacked in skill, however, she more than made up for in rage and persistence. As Byakuya felt his guard begin to grind down and waver, pride and anger began to well up from within him.

"If you do not cease with this insulting barrage, child," he spoke harshly through teeth grit in concentration, "I will be forced to actually fight back."

"Good," Karin retorted brusquely as their blades clashed once more. "I'd hate to kill someone who wasn't fighting me at full strength! _Kuro Shiden_!"

Senbonsakura broke apart reflexively and blocked the bolt of black lightning, the attack bringing back more than a few unpleasant memories of the elder Kuchiki's duel with the unchained monstrosity that was Ichigo's Inner Hollow atop the Soukyoku Hill. Karin lunged into the gap created by the scattering blades, and it was only thanks to a last-second flash-step that Kuchiki was able to avoid being skewered. Byakuya was hit inexplicably with the sudden feeling that somewhere, Sosuke Aizen was laughing like a madman.

Determined to bring a stop to this fruitless quarrel, the Captain set his feet and pushed back as he blocked the next strike, sending his opponent reeling backwards.

"_Bakudo number 1: Sai._"

The additional loss of balance caused by the binding of her arms sent Karin tumbling to the ground, her zanpakuto slipping out of her grip with a clatter. Deeming the battle finished, Byakuya sheathed his zanpakuto and turned his back to the young Kurosaki, walking away with slightly shaky steps as the events of the last few minutes finally crashed down on him.

The dark-eyed Soul Reaper watched her enemy walking away calmly, past the now-paling body of her brother, and felt her reiatsu yearning to break free of its constraints. Anger clouding her judgment, Karin had no qualms about letting it loose. Concentrating as hard as she could, the dark-eyed Kurosaki pushed out against the _kido_ holding her down, and felt it beginning to creak and strain under the pressure. A few moments later it shattered, and Karin's eyes narrowed to slits. Flash-stepping over to Raitori, the furious Soul Reaper re-cloaked her reiatsu, readied her sword and charged towards the unprotected back of Byakuya Kuchiki right as the Captain in question was turning around, having felt the destruction of his _bakudo_. His eyes widened in shock as he saw the point of the blade barreling down towards his open and vulnerable side.

Right before the blade would have struck home, however, Byakuya felt himself be thrown several feet backwards by a powerful blast of reiatsu. He expected to have been scorched by something of that intensity, or at least marred in some way, but when he looked down there wasn't a mark on him from the energy burst. Turning his gaze straight ahead, Kuchiki saw nothing more than a roiling dust cloud, one that was now rapidly dissipating. In its wake, it revealed a sight that made Byakuya feel genuinely relieved for the first time in a while.

The blade of Karin Kurosaki's zanpakuto was being held tightly in a strong, battle-worn hand, and the figure's other arm was wrapped strongly around her waist, pulling the young Soul Reaper into a gentle, yet firm embrace. The huge blade of Zangetsu took up a huge portion of the newcomer's back, and a bright shock of orange hair sat atop the imposing figure's head.

Ichigo bent down so that his face was on the same level as his sister's and whispered into her ear, glad that she couldn't see the sorrow carved into his face over his failure to have prevented a fight like this from breaking out to begin with.

"It's all right, Karin," he said gently. "I'm right here."

The sudden warm, comforting contact broke through the young Kurosaki's rage and stole away her bloodlust, making her knees weak and causing her to slump into her older brother's arms, crying quietly but fiercely.

"I… I thought you'd left me, Ichi-nii," she managed to choke out. "I thought you weren't coming back this time, just like… just like…"

"Shhh." Ichigo cut off the unspoken 'Mom' with a reassuring whisper, waiting for the tears to stop flowing before he spoke again.

"I'm not going to leave you, Karin," he said with the resolution of a blood oath. "Not now, and certainly not for a long time to come. I promise."

His middle sister stepped back from the embrace, her eyes red and slightly puffy. Blinking, she fixed Ichigo with an attempt at her normally commanding stare that almost made her brother chuckle just a little bit at how silly it looked right then.

"I'm going to hold you to that promise, Ichi-nii," she said firmly, and at that the orange-haired Soul Reaper did laugh, reaching out and ruffling her hair.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Karin. Now go get yourself straightened out, before Toshiro thinks I made you cry and tries to freeze my arms off!"

Smiling weakly, the dark-eyed Kurosaki nodded and flashed away. Sighing and shaking his head, Ichigo turned to face his current teacher and smirked.

"What's gotten into you, Byakuya?" he jibed. "How'd you let yourself get beaten by my little sister?!"

The Kuchiki noble bit back the urge to unleash his _bankai_, instead forcing himself to be relieved that it seemed like, by some minor miracle, Ichigo Kurosaki had managed to retain his memories.

"For your information, boy," he spat back indignantly, "I wasn't even trying. If I had been, I probably would have killed her. And secondly," he said, his voice rising slightly in intensity before he paused, as Ichigo put his hand reflexively on Zangetsu's hilt and began to draw it,

"It is good to see you made it back safely," the noble finished, his tone calm and even slightly amused as he watched his student react to the fake-out by dropping his sword and turning red with embarrassment and anger.

"Don't do that, Byakuya!" he shouted. "I thought you were going to fight me, damn it!"

"Yes," the elder Kuchiki replied, "that was the point. Or has your transformation robbed you of what few brains you possessed beforehand?" he asked, a smirk gracing his face.

Ichigo went from red with embarrassment to near-purple with rage.

"Why you little…" he seethed, before picking Zangetsu back up and charging. He was so intent on carving the smirk from Byakuya's face that he didn't notice the noble's smile widening, or his hand as it rose up, prepared to cast a _kido_.

"_Bakudo number 81: Danku._"

As the Captain expected, Ichigo ran right into the barrier and flattened up against it, groaning pitifully before sliding down it and falling to the ground with a thud. Kuchiki couldn't help himself, and gave a small chuckle.

"On your feet, Ichigo Kurosaki," he said sharply. "Clearly, I need to pound as much _kido_ as I can into you in the next two-and-a-half hours, or you won't stand a chance against Aizen."

"I hate you so much…" Ichigo hissed as he rose to his feet, using Zangetsu as a support at first before standing up straight and tensing his muscles back into coordination. Byakuya made a small sound of approval and flashed away, with his student hot on his heels. As he cooled down from his flash-step and waited for Ichigo to appear, Byakuya allowed himself a small shudder: when he had charged at him earlier, Kurosaki's raw reiatsu had far exceeded that of every Captain, save maybe Kenpachi Zaraki at full strength using kendo or Jushiro and Shunsui when they got really serious. And that outburst had been purely instinctive, without anything to hone or focus it:

Once he trained enough in this new form, Ichigo Kurosaki's potential power level was both astonishing and horrifying. All Byakuya had to do was get him even somewhat close to that level in the next few hours, and maybe, just maybe, the Soul Reapers stood a chance of bringing down Aizen once and for all.

* * *

Rukia assumed it was safe to call this the most awkward silence ever. Aizen sat on the grass, cross-legged, with his zanpakuto resting across his knees and his eyes shut calmly. If not for the gentle humming of the sword before him, it might have been easy for an observer to think that Sosuke had fallen asleep; it was clear to Rukia, however, that he was in the middle of a deep conversation with his zanpakuto. And as much as Kuchiki wanted to interrupt, the fact remained that being pulled out of one's Spirit World prematurely was a very jarring experience, and if there was one thing she did not want to have to deal with it was a pissed-off Sosuke Aizen.

And so Rukia Kuchiki remained silent, until the sword ceased to hum and Aizen stood up with a stretch and a sigh, seeming oddly drained. Unable to keep her curiosity in check any longer, the violet-eyed Soul Reaper took the plunge and asked her captor a question.

"What was that all about back there? Are you planning something with your zanpakuto?" she spoke accusingly, trying to wheedle something out of Sosuke that she could use to turn this situation around. Aizen didn't seem very worried about the possibility of such turnabout, and chuckled as he answered.

"You could say that," he answered cryptically. "One should never commit to a major tactical endeavor without first establishing a contingency plan."

Rukia struggled mightily against the restraints of the _rikujokoro_, stopping only as she felt the rods of light tearing into her flesh.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sosuke cautioned with infuriating politeness. "Wouldn't want you dying before that boy gets here, now would we? That would just be sad," he finished, his patronizing smirk making Rukia writhe even more until she realized what she was doing and calmed down, glaring daggers of pure hatred at her captor.

"That's more like it," Aizen mocked, and the young Kuchiki spat up a thin stream of blood at his feet with a growl.

"Screw you."

The traitor Captain just chuckled, turning his attention away from tormenting his prisoner and towards warming up his _kido_. As Rukia watched, petrified at the power the man before her was exuding, she, too, attempted to turn her mind away from the present situation. Closing her eyes, the violet-eyed Soul Reaper dove headfirst into her Spirit World, expecting to land in a comforting bank of snow.

Instead, the young Kuchiki was greeted with a surprise as she found herself diving headfirst into a very, very cold body of water. Centering herself as quickly as she could, Rukia swam up to the surface and raised her head out of the water, trying to figure out just what was going on. The sight that greeted her made her eyes go wide in shock.

The normally placid world of ice and snow was _thawing_, breaking off into ice floes and floating icebergs as glaciers sheared off slice by slice.

"What in the name of…" the Soul Reaper began, but an annoyed, sharp voice cut her off.

"I hope you can swim, Rukia."

The young Kuchiki hurriedly wiped a wet strand of hair from her eyes and looked up, only to behold a disheveled and quite disgruntled Sode no Shirayuki. Her spirit, Rukia noticed, was also missing her right hand. Concentrating, Rukia managed to propel herself out of the water and land gracefully next to her spirit, before slipping on the ice and falling on her ass much less gracefully. As she quickly adjusted into a sitting position with a huff, the spirit next to her laughed airily while sitting down next to her mistress.

"Some things will never change," she opined, but the young Kuchiki didn't answer, instead looking forlornly off into the horizon. After a few moments of silence, Sode no Shirayuki reached over and smacked Rukia on the back of the head, evoking a strangled shout from the Soul Reaper as she quickly turned and frowned at her zanpakuto spirit.

"What the hell was that for?" she demanded, but the white-clad lady just shrugged.

"Your mood was rubbing off on me."

The young Kuchiki sputtered ineffectually for a few moments before swallowing her anger and returning her eyes to the horizon, seemingly resigned to the fractured state of her Spirit World. Sode no Shirayuki watched her mistress for a few more moments with a sad, maternal look on her face, before reaching over and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Come, Rukia," she said gently. "I have something to show you."

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper nodded mutely, barely even reacting as the scenery shifted around her, changing into a sliver of one of her memories. As Rukia realized where she was, however, she jolted back to life like someone had just stabbed her.

She was back in Hueco Mundo, watching herself battling with Aaroniero Arreruie, the monstrosity of an Espada that had dared to impersonate Kaien-dono. She looked over at Sode no Shirayuki, expecting some kind of reasoning behind bringing her back to this moment. All the spirit did, however, was point towards the ongoing duel, her eyes focused and cold.

"Watch," she commanded. "I have brought you here for a reason, Rukia, but it is your task to figure out what that reason is."

The young Kuchiki obediently redirected her gaze, observing the duel with a surreal sense of detachment and subconsciously running her good hand over one of the spots that Nejibana had pierced.

"_Kido_ without the incantation?" 'Kaien' was saying. "I must admit, I'm impressed. But still, that won't be enough to defeat me…"

The sunlight poured through the opening left in the wall, forcing the Espada to jump up to darker, higher ground. Rukia could see the wheels turning in her head, and a few moments later she saw the coils of yellow energy appear around her hands.

"_Bakudo number 4: Hainawa_!"

The ropes shot out and bound 'Kaien', who struggled against them in vain.

"What good do you think that will do, Kuchiki?" he shouted. Rukia saw herself ignoring the ranting Gillian, instead setting up her double incantation.

"_Bakudo number 61: Rikujokoro_!"

Immediately afterwards, she let the hammer drop.

"_Hado number 73: Soren Sokatsui_!"

Rukia watched herself pull off a flawless double incantation with no small amount of pride, but as the Ninth Espada revealed his true form and began to speak, her look of admiration shifted into one of shock. As understanding finally dawned on her, Sode no Shirayuki smiled.

"_Now_ she gets it," the spirit said to herself, while Rukia's mouth began to twitch up into the beginnings of a smile as she saw her nemesis begin to take action.

"He breaks out of it…" she mumbled, taking perverse excitement at seeing her enemy destroy her own trap. "He breaks out of it!" she repeated, joy seeping into the edges of her voice, mixed with genuine hope. Turning to Sode no Shirayuki, the young Kuchiki's eyes flashed with newfound determination.

"How did he do that?" she asked, her voice strong once again. "Can you tell me?"

"Stop asking questions you already know the answers to, Kuchiki," another voice spoke out, and Rukia spun around to face the speaker before freezing in her tracks.

"K—Kaien-dono?" she breathed out, before smacking herself mentally in the face. No way was she falling for this trick _again_. Drawing her zanpakuto, the Kuchiki princess charged at the form of her former mentor and swung the blade down, focusing as hard as she could on cutting through the impostor's neck. She closed her eyes as she did so, not wanting to see herself complete the deed, but when she opened them again she found that her zanpakuto had stopped cold against Kaien's neck. A thin trickle of blood running down his flesh, and nothing more.

"Why?" Rukia shouted, turning a wrathful gaze on her zanpakuto's spirit. "Why did you stop!?"

"Because I called him here, you silly girl," Sode no Shirayuki answered haughtily, "and he wouldn't do you much good decapitated, now would he?"

Rukia stood stock-still, her eyes shifting back and forth between her zanpakuto's spirit and the… thing that she claimed was really Kaien Shiba.

"But… but he's…"

"Over there?" Kaien finished, pointing to where the phantasm of the Ninth Espada had been just moments before, the space now empty and the memory fading away, leaving the trio standing in the middle of Rukia's Spirit World once again. The violet-eyed Soul Reaper stared up into the face of her mentor in disbelief, seeing the warmth in his eyes that had been so noticeably lacking in the expression of the Ninth Espada. Overwhelmed by emotion, her sword dropped from her hand and she fell to her knees, unable to weep but shaking nonetheless. Kaien sighed heavily, gently lifting Rukia to her feet and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"I've really done a number on ya, haven't I, Kuchiki?" he said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"How…?" she managed to mutter, pulling back from him and looking up into his sea-green eyes.

"Didn't I tell you before?" Shiba answered with a chuckle. "I left my heart here with you, remember?"

Rukia stood still for a few heartbeats, before knitting her eyebrows into a frown, jumping up and belting Kaien across the face.

"Damn it, don't do that!" she shouted, her eyes narrowed with anger. "Stop screwing with me!"

Rather than be shocked, however, Kaien just laughed as he rubbed his now-tender jaw.

"Well now, it looks like you've finally gotten a left hook down, Kuchiki," he said jovially. "It only took you, what, 25 years?"

The longer she looked at him, the more Rukia felt her resistance crumbling against her will. Determined to overcome her last great weakness, she faced down the image of Kaien Shiba and spoke, her voice as hard as the ice she commanded in battle.

"Prove it."

The former Lieutenant arched a quizzical eyebrow.

"What?"

"Prove it," the young Kuchiki repeated. "Prove to me that you're really Kaien-dono, or this time I'll kill you and you'll _stay_ dead."

Kaien smirked, his eyes twinkling with the mischievous streak Rukia knew all-too-well.

"Are you sure you want to go there, Kuchiki?" he asked slyly, and Rukia met the question with a resolute nod.

"All right," Shiba sighed, "but don't say I didn't warn you. Here goes:

"Your name is Rukia Kuchiki, adopted sister of Byakuya Kuchiki of the noble house of the same name. When you fight one-handed, it's not just to leave one hand free for _kido_, but also to hide a shaking tick you have in your left hand that shows up under pressure. You have absolutely abysmal drawing skills,"

Here Rukia's left eye twitched, but finding nothing to chuck at the man in front of her she let him continue unharmed.

"Your obsession with bunny rabbits is frankly alarming, you once told me that if faced with the choice between being a Kuchiki and never being able to eat tuna sushi again or returning to being a street rat, you would go back to the Rukongai in a heartbeat, and finally," he finished with a flourish, looking into Rukia's now-stunned expression with a joyful glint of malice in his eyes,

"You're secretly deathly afraid of clowns!"

Rukia's jaw dropped open slightly, her eyes now the size of dinner plates as she staggered a few steps backwards.

"There's… there's no way you could know that, unless…"

"Unless what?" Kaien parried, his warm smile resurfacing. "I am who I say I am? Why would that be so surprising, Kuchiki?"

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper maintained her look of surprise for another moment, before shifting back into anger yet again.

"You idiot!" she shouted, lunging again as she smacked Kaien across the face with the back of her hand. "I thought I made you swear never to speak of that again!"

"Geez, Kuchiki, I'm sorry," Shiba replied defensively, "but it's really your fault for challenging me. How else did you expect me to prove that I was who I said I was? Don't worry, though," he added, the glint back in his eyes, "I promise not to tell Ichigo."

Rukia went from furious to blushing, her frown taking on a much more embarrassed look.

"You'd better not," she threatened in a low voice, a small smile on her face nonetheless, "or I'll beat the crap out of you."

"I don't doubt it," Kaien said with another chuckle, before his gaze turned serious.

"You've really grown up, kid," he said. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," Rukia replied, before she, too, became as focused as the blade of her zanpakuto.

"But I doubt you came here just to say 'hi', Kaien-dono," she continued, "so why are you here?"

"I thought you'd be more likely to listen to him than to me, as sad as that is," Sode no Shirayuki butted in, breaking her long silence. "It's not like I'm part of your soul, or anything," she finished with a very Rukia-like huff, crossing her arms and looking pointedly away from her mistress. The young Kuchiki wondered for a moment if she was really that uppity, before shaking those thoughts away and turning back to Kaien.

"You said earlier that I already knew how that… monster broke out of my _Rikujokoro_," she recalled. "What did you mean?"

Kaien gave her a confused look.

"What do you mean, 'What did you mean,' Kuchiki?" he repeated, know just how much rephrasing questions annoyed his former student. "Exactly what it sounded like. You already know how that Espada broke free, you just have to look for the answer. I'll give you a hint, because we don't have time to drag this out: how did Kurosaki break out of that _kido_ the first night you met him?"

Rukia paused to think it over, remembering just how infuriating it had been to see that brown-eyed, orange-haired human boy break out of her _bakudo_ with sheer strength alone. She remembered just how much determination had shone in his eyes, his desire to protect his family superceding everything, even his own survival. As she realized the answer, her face brightened for the second time and she flashed a grin that would have made Yoruichi proud.

"Willpower," she said, half-to-herself. "Of course; why didn't I think of that sooner? All it takes is the strength to let your fear fade into the background, and all of those obstacles just…"

"Disappear," Kaien finished, a goofy grin on his face as he, and the rest of Rukia's Spirit World, began to turn hazy and melt away. The young Kuchiki tried to reach out and grab hold of her former mentor, but she wound up charging right through him.

"No," she gasped, "don't go…"

"Relax, Kuchiki," Kaien said as he blurred even further. "I'll always be here if you want to talk, but to be honest," the green-eyed Shiba finished with a more rueful smile, "I think there's someone else waiting for you, and he's a much better companion than a dead guy."

Rukia smiled sadly and nodded, unable to keep a single tear from rolling down her cheek as she realized it was time to let Kaien really and truly rest in peace.

"Thank you for everything, Kaien-dono," she said with a voice strained by unshed tears, and the former Lieutenant just chuckled as he faded away completely.

"Silly girl," he said, "you don't have to thank me."

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper closed her eyes, feeling the pulling sensation that marked her ejection from her Spirit World. When she opened them, Rukia found herself back in the plain with Aizen, but she noticed with satisfaction that strength had flooded back into her limbs, and she felt like she could shatter this _bakudo_ with just one hand. Which was a good thing, because she only had one hand at the moment. When this was over, she would have to ask Inoue to fix that.

It was tempting to just try to break out of her prison right now, but Rukia forced that notion out of her mind; not only would it be silly to pull out her hidden ace right now, but Aizen would just re-capture her and her advantage would have been wasted. No, she would wait for Ichigo to show up, and then make her move.

_Hurry up, Ichigo,_ she thought with a small smile, _I can't wait for your lazy ass forever._

* * *

A few miles away, Ichigo broke of a _hado_ incantation with a sneeze, and Byakuya frowned.

"What was that, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

"Nothing," the newly-christened Soul Reaper replied casually. "Probably just Rukia thinking about me."

Byakuya snorted in distaste.

"Don't flatter yourself, boy," he shot back, noting with hidden smugness that Ichigo quickly shifted from nonchalant to furious. He really was too easy to manipulate, but at the same time, that also made him easier to train.

"You…" Ichigo growled, raising his hand once more, and this time with actual killing intent behind it.

"_Hado number 4: Byakurai_!"

The elder Kuchiki gave a curt laugh, stopping the _kido_ with the palm of his hand, to the shock and immense irritation of his student.

"First," the teacher began in his imperious tone, "you do not have the luxury of wasting time perfecting low-level spells. Such a weak _hado_ would only damage Aizen at the pinnacle of its power, and you are far from that level. Second," he continued, "did you seriously think that _hado_ could ever harm me? I have used it countless times in battle, and know the structure of it as well as I know the back of my hand. To think you could so much as scratch me with it is only further proof of your appalling arrogance, Ichigo Kurosaki."

The orange-haired warrior sputtered ineffectually for a moment before turning apoplectic with rage.

"You want a scratch, Byakuya?" he fumed. "Fine, I'll give you a scratch! _Hado number 63: Raikoho_!"

The Captain's eyes widened in shock as the blast of lightning raced towards him; he had only showed that incantation to Kurosaki once as an example of a high-level _hado_, and he could already cast it with a bypass? Impossible!

Byakuya readied himself to block the blast, but was never given the chance to as a barrier suddenly appeared between himself and the attack.

"_Bakudo number 81: Danku_," Ulquiorra's voice said evenly, and as soon as the smoke from the collision had wafted away Kuchiki turned a glare onto the former Espada.

"What gives you the right to interfere, Ulquiorra?" he asked, his voice equally as composed but also glinting with a sharpness lacking in Schiffer's.

"Expediency," was the terse reply from the green-eyed Soul Reaper. "It is obvious to me that Ichigo Kurosaki's reiatsu, vastly increased though it may now be, is still woefully untamed. To attempt to contain such a tempest in this short a span of time is nothing short of suicidal folly."

Ichigo bristled at that, whirling around to face his former nemesis.

"Who went and made you _kido_ expert, Ulquiorra?" he blustered. "You've been a Soul Reaper for all of what, a week and a half?"

"One does not go through being subjected to so much _kido_ and not emerge knowing its intricacies, Ichigo Kurosaki," the former Espada replied contemptuously. "To challenge my power in this field, or insinuate that a neophyte such as yourself could ever hope to surpass me, simply proves that you possess an appalling level of arrogance."

Ichigo cocked an eyebrow in surprise, before turning to his steely-eyed teacher and smirking.

"Wow, Byakuya," he said amusedly, "you never told me you had a twin."

"Silence, boy," both Schiffer and Kuchiki said in unison, before looking at each other with murderously narrowed eyes. After a few tense moments, Ulquiorra broke off his gaze and returned his focus to Ichigo.

"As I was saying," the green-eyed Soul Reaper resumed as if the confrontation with his newfound rival had never occurred, "for you to attempt to obtain knowledge of the upper extremities of _kido_ in what scant time we possess is foolish."

"Then what would you propose, Ulquiorra?" Ichigo said sharply, but was surprised when a different voice answered him.

"_Hanki_."

Ichigo turned and found himself staring into a pair of warm, but determined golden eyes.

"Yoruichi…" he began, but the Shihoin princess cut him off.

"You didn't think I'd just let someone else teach you my specialty and take all the credit once you beat Aizen to a pulp, did ya?" she asked with a grin, before putting on the serious 'Teacher Face' that Ichigo knew so well from his days training to obtain his _bankai_. It was an expression that left no room to doubt her seriousness, and Ichigo promptly shut up and began to listen.

"Ulquiorra's right," the former Second Division Captain spoke, "we can't teach you the upper-level _kido_ this quickly. What I _can_ teach you, though, is the way to nullify Aizen's _kido_ spells. He'll try to play to your deficiencies, but if you can remove his ability to utilize _kido_ altogether, you'll be that much closer to evening out the odds."

Ichigo spoke up, his voice impatient.

"So this thing you're going to teach me cancels out _kido_. All right, I get it," he snapped. "Just tell me when we start!"

Yoruichi rolled her eyes and glanced to the men on either side of her, as if to ask 'Would you like to do the honors?'. They both tacitly declined, though, and a feline grin split Yoruichi's face.

"Right now, Ichigo!" she called out, a ball of yellow energy forming in her right hand as she lunged. Kurosaki was caught completely off-guard and raised his arms in a pitiful attempt at a guard, his reward being a stinging sensation that lanced up both of his arms and back down again as the spell struck its target. The strike threw Ichigo backwards, his feet leaving tracks in the dirt.

"What the hell, Yoruichi?" he shouted. "I wasn't ready for that!"

"Then maybe you should try listening to the whole explanation before charging into things, you idiot!" the Shihoin princess shot back, and Ichigo let those words sink in before bowing his head, chastised.

"I'm sorry," he said seriously. "Please, continue."

"Very well," Yoruichi said, rolling her head on her neck to stretch out the joints before continuing, while Byakuya and Ulquiorra flashed away to begin dueling, under the pretext of 'warming up for the coming battle.'

"_Hanki_ is simple in principle; the trouble is in the execution. What it consists of is countering the energy of a _kido_ spell with energy of the exact same potency and flow, but the flow has to be running in exactly the opposite direction, or you're screwed. The backspin is the hardest thing to get down, which is why it's what we're going to start with."

Ichigo nodded, the determination in his eyes palpable.

"Fair enough; let's do this."

Yoruichi nodded, silently in awe of the newfound power her pupil was exuding. Where it had once been chaotic, as the sense of purpose settled over Ichigo he had subconsciously focused his entire being on mastering this new challenge, and his reiatsu had followed suit. As he stood before her now, calm, composed and deadly serious, he could have just as easily been wearing a Captain's _haori_ and Yoruichi wouldn't have even blinked.

"Oi, Yoruichi!"

The golden-eyed Shihoin started out of her thoughts, shaking her head to regain her bearings.

"You all right?"

She nodded hastily, righting herself immediately and exhaling.

"Okay, the first thing I need you to do is call up a small orb of raw _kido_ energy, not tethered to any specific spell. I need you to control its size enough to have it fit in the palm of your hand."

Ichigo blanched at that, remembering the time when he almost tore the Shiba household apart trying to summon raw _kido_ energy. Yoruichi noticed his apprehension and sighed; now wasn't the time to worry about messing something up.

"Look, Ichigo," she counseled, "think about it this way; tapping into your raw spiritual energy to harness energy for _kido_ is like diving towards a big black pool of power, right?"

Kurosaki nodded, remembering similar words that Ganju Shiba had told him what felt like a lifetime ago.

"Okay, so think of this like that, except instead diving straight into the blackness, walk up to it first and put one of your feet in."

The brown-eyed Soul Reaper closed his eyes and took a breath in, visualizing the pool of blackness and opening his eyes to see it in front of him, the real world having segued into the spiritual one. Steeling his resolve one last time, Ichigo began to stride confidently towards the whirling maelstrom of energy. As he approached it, he reached out with two fingers and broached the surface.

The effect was electric; the power flowed into the Soul Reaper and he drank it in like a parched man who had just stumbled across an oasis in the middle of the desert. He felt himself rising higher and higher, until he remembered Yoruichi's instructions and forced the power to bend to his will, keeping it contained to his hand instead of letting it flow throughout his entire body. Once he had achieved that, he 'blinked' and found himself back in the Soul Society, a concentrated orb of white spiritual energy floating in the palm of his hand.

"Hey, Yoruichi, look!" he called out. "I did it!" When he didn't hear a response from his teacher, Ichigo shifted his eyes upward from his hand and gasped.

The golden-eyed princess was standing there with extremely dilated pupils, sweat beading on her forehead as she struggled to breathe.

"Um, Yoruichi?" Ichigo asked hesitantly, "Are you O.K.?"

"I'll be fine," she gasped out, as a few of the Captains flash-stepped out to join them, hands on their zanpakuto hilts and prepared to draw.

"What was that just now?" Ukitake asked. "It felt like an Adjuchas, at the very least!"

"Relax, Jushiro," Yoruichi said between labored breaths. "It was just Ichigo."

The white-haired Captain stared at the brown-eyed Soul Reaper in shock while Urahara raced over to brace Yoruichi.

"What did you _do_, Ichigo?" Ukitake asked, and Ichigo put his hands out defensively.

"I have no idea!" he said. "I was just tapping into my spiritual energy like Yoruichi told me to, and the next thing I know she's paralyzed!"

Jushiro's eyes widened in awe, and he struggled to keep his voice level. There was no way that this kid…

"Ichigo," he began as calmly as he could, "if you had to say on a scale of one to ten how much of your power you tapped into, what would you say?"

Kurosaki stood in thought, remembering how it hadn't felt that taxing when he'd tapped into the pool of blackness. Instead, it had felt nothing short of exhilarating. He hadn't even broken a sweat, come to think of it.

"I dunno," he said, thinking. "Maybe about… one-and-a-half?"

Ukitake temporarily lost the ability to speak altogether. Had he just heard right? Ichigo, exercising a little over ten percent of his reiatsu, was able to thoroughly paralyze a Soul Reaper of Captain class? What the hell _was_ this kid?

"Yoruichi," Shunsui filled in for his friend, "something tells me you won't be needing to teach Ichigo _Hanki_ after all. Teach him how to tap into his Spiritual Energy without entering a meditative state and Aizen will have quite the fight on his hands, _kido_ or no."

"Good thing, too," Soi Fon spoke up, Grimmjow at her side. "We're almost out of time. He's got a half an hour to get ready before the duel starts."

Ichigo's look of slight apprehensiveness over just how surprised everyone seemed by his level of power quickly faded when he heard Soi Fon's proclamation.

"Well, then," he said, "it looks like we don't have any time to waste. Who wants to teach me how to control this thing?"

Ukitake was about to step up, but a smooth voice from off to his side cut in instead.

"I'll do it," Urahara said as he stepped forward, having eased Yoruichi out of her paralysis. "You need to make sure everyone knows what their role is once the battle starts, Captain Ukitake, and Captain Kyoraku is on perimeter patrol duty, if I recall correctly."

Jushiro nodded his assent, and Shunsui muttered something that sounded oddly like 'snitch' before flashing away to patrol around the Shiba household, ready to sound off if Aizen made his move sooner than anticipated. The other Captains followed Ulquiorra and Byakuya's lead, sparring lightly to sharpen their skills before the battle. Soon all of the other Soul Reapers had followed their superiors' example, and Ichigo and Kisuke were forced to flash away to somewhere they would be undisturbed. Once they had picked a spot, Urahara sat down cross-legged on the grass and closed his eyes. Kurosaki paused, hesitating to follow the blond-haired man's lead until the Captain spoke out to him, not opening his eyes.

"Aren't you going to have a seat, Kurosaki-san? The more anchored you are physically, the easier it is to not worry about maintaining the state of your body as much and focusing instead on your spiritual power."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper shrugged and sat down, starting to close his eyes before Kisuke stopped him with a word.

"The first thing we need to do is establish a link between your energy well and the physical world. I want you to concentrate as hard as you can on my voice, Kurosaki-san; when you think you have a good enough grip on it, then, and only then, do I want you to enter the part of your soul that holds your raw spiritual energy."

Ichigo tried as best he could to block out everything except the sound of the soft, rhythmic chant that Urahara had taken up, which wasn't easy when he could feel the flaring reiatsu of Captains and Lieutenants all around him and hear the clanging of their weapons in the distance. After several moments of focusing, though, the brown-eyed Soul Reaper felt confident enough that Kisuke's voice wouldn't fade even if he segued into his energy well, and closed his eyes. Soon enough he was facing the swirling black pool again, and this time he heard the Captain's almost sing-song lilt come in from all around him, as if it had been fed into some kind of spiritual speaker system.

"Can you hear my voice, Kurosaki-san?" he asked, putting just enough stress on the honorific to get on Ichigo's nerves.

"Loud and clear, Hat-n-Clogs," he answered back. "I'm ready when you are."

The jovial lightness left Urahara's voice immediately, the sudden shift making Ichigo reflexively tense.

"Very well," the Captain said. "We've succeeded in establishing a bridge of sorts from the physical world into your spiritual energy well. Now it's time for the hard part: making the path from there back out into the physical world and keeping it stable. This is what allows Soul Reapers to boost and lower their reiatsu at will, and to various levels of power as well, rather than just the extremes you might have been accustomed to as a human. Let me know when you're ready, Kurosaki-san."

"I thought I just told you I was ready, Urahara," Ichigo all-but growled back, and Kisuke's voice took on a decidedly defensive tone.

"Okay, okay; jeez," he muttered back, "try to have at least a smidgen of patience. All right, Ichigo," he continued, his voice returning to normal, "here's what I need you to do. Focus on leaving your energy well behind and entering back into the physical world, but stop before you come all the way back."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper connected the dots and smiled, his confidence returning full-force with more than a little bit of cockiness.

"You want me to stay in-between the two, and then make a pathway with the raw energy connecting them together, right?"

"Exactly so, Kurosaki-san!" the Captain erupted, his gaiety making a triumphant resurgence. "Do you think you're up to it?" he added, adding a sly note of challenge to his voice that he knew Ichigo wouldn't be able to resist.

Ichigo just chuckled.

"Of course," he replied strongly. "Besides, it's not like I have time to waste with those kinds of questions!"

"Then show me," Kisuke parried, and the brown-eyed Soul Reaper concentrated, keeping his eyes open this time to better discern where the border between the worlds happened to lie. When he reached a point where he could see himself on one side, sitting as if asleep, and the whirling pool of his spiritual energy on the other side, Ichigo knew he had found the sweet spot. Now the tricky stage began: dragging that untamed energy towards him and compelling it to form a fluid, but stable link between his physical body and the rest of his spiritual energy.

At first he tried treating it like he had learning Zangetsu's name, almost courting the energy in a game of give and take, waiting for some grand epiphany to strike when the energy would coalesce. After several minutes of almost-successes and frustrating slip-ups so tantalizingly close to getting a grip on the energy, Ichigo was about ready to start tearing his hair out at the roots when a scathing voice sounded from out of nowhere.

"_Are you fucking kidding me, King? _This _is the best you can do?_"

Ichigo's head snapped around so hard he almost gave himself whiplash, his brown eyes soon locking on a pair of vicious black-and-yellow ones.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the Soul Reaper asked, more exasperated than angry. Whenever his Inner Hollow showed up unbidden, it was almost always a sign that he had something demeaning to sling Ichigo's way.

This time would apparently be no different.

"_I was just sick of sitting around and watching you waste our time_," he spat back. "_In case you haven't been paying attention, King, we only have 10 minutes before our duel with that bastard Aizen, and I'll be _damned _if I go down with you just 'cause you were too fucking stupid to get this one thing right._"

Ichigo bit back a snarl; now was definitely not the time to get into a drawn out argument with this bastard.

"Then what do you propose I do about it?" he asked sharply. "In case you haven't noticed, spewing insults at me doesn't really help!"

"_Stop treating this like it's some kind of mystical process, King,_" the Hollow spoke out. "_All this time, it's like you've been sitting around waiting for the right catalyst to come along that miraculously gets you out of whatever jam you've gotten your stupid ass into. This isn't like that, King. You can't just stand there and wait for the energy to come to you,_" the Hollow continued, walking over to the whirling vortex and sticking his hand out over it.

"_You have to _take _it!_"

With that, the Hollow pulled his hand upward sharply and the dark substance followed it like a dog on a leash, swaying back and forth as the Hollow shifted his hand. It was completely and utterly under his control: the Hollow had dominated it.

"_Do you get it now, King? Or should I just take over from here and go rescue Rukia from that scumbag myself? I'm sure she'd enjoy me _much _more than you, if you catch my drift,_" he finished, his wicked grin turning salacious as Ichigo felt himself get sick deep in the pit of his stomach. Using that revolting possibility to motivate himself even further, Kurosaki beamed a vicious grin at his evil counterpart.

"Not a chance, buddy," he said, extending his hand towards the pool that was his spiritual energy and focusing intently on the tempestuous mass, before realizing that if the pool was still this would be much easier. Willing the roiling vortex to be still with every fiber of his being, Ichigo felt a surge of elation rise up within him as the black energy stopped churning and became as smooth and clear as glass.

With the hard part out of the way, the rest of this would be as easy as breathing. Making motions with his hands as if he was pulling on a large piece of rope, Ichigo swiftly completed the pathway between the now-tranquil source of his power and the physical world. Before he left this odd limbo behind for good, though, the brown-eyed Soul Reaper turned back around to face his Inner Hollow.

"I never thought I'd say this, but…" he began, but the creature cut him off sharply.

"_Then don't break the streak now, King,_" he replied. "_Just don't make me regret it._"

Nodding solemnly, Ichigo turned his attention back to the journey to the physical world and shot upwards like a falcon, bursting from the stagnant light of his Spirit World into the vibrant rays of sunlight.

* * *

Urahara sighed with relief as he felt Ichigo return to his body; they were running out of time, and fast.

"So?" he pressed when the Soul Reaper didn't open his eyes for a few seconds. "Did you make a stable bridge?"

Kurosaki opened his dark brown eyes and smiled, practically radiating the confident, cocky calm he was known for.

"You tell me, Urahara," he quipped, before tapping directly into his spiritual energy and turning it into tangible reiatsu.

Kisuke felt like a crew of miniature construction workers had taken residence up inside his head and were trying to jackhammer through his skull and out the other side, while the rest of him felt like it had suddenly been constricted by a gigantic python as his breath was being slowly but surely squeezed from his lungs.

Then, as swiftly as the pressure had come, it dissipated. Kisuke couldn't restrain himself from gasping for breath, stunned not only by the force behind the reiatsu but also by how effortlessly Ichigo seemed to control it.

"Yeah," the Captain said after a moment, a smile on his face, "I'd say you did it, all right."

"That was about a quarter of the way to my limit," Ichigo said levelly. "I didn't want to push myself too hard too fast, ya know?"

"Yes, and I thank you for it," Kisuke said sincerely. If Kurosaki had exerted very much more reiatsu than he had just then, Urahara had no doubts that he would be the proud owner of his most intense migraine headache ever for a whole week. He got up and dusted his _haori_ off and Ichigo rose with him, just in time for Yoruichi to come running over.

"Five minutes," she said shortly. "You ready, Ichigo?"

The orange-haired Soul Reaper nodded, releasing Zangetsu from his wrappings and smiling as the cleaver-like blade glimmered in the sun, ready to go to war. Then his smile grew even wider as he thought of something, and he took a few steps forward before focusing, closing his eyes and sending out a single, massive pulse of reiatsu that must have been felt for at least three miles in every direction.

"God damn it, Kurosaki," Grimmjow cursed as he tried to stop the ringing in his ears, "at least give me some warning before you do something like that! What the hell was that even for, anyway?"

Ichigo's eyes flashed as he replied.

"Just sending a message. Let's go, Yoruichi," he said, flashing away and almost daring the Goddess of Flash to keep up.

Two miles away, Sosuke Aizen and Rukia Kuchiki both felt the pulse of reiatsu wash over them, and had starkly different reactions. Aizen began to wonder if he should worry about this unexplained increase in power from the human. He then promptly shrugged that concern off, closed off communication with his zanpakuto and rose to his feet, preparing one final time for what was sure to be an effortless victory.

Rukia, on the other hand, felt the reiatsu sweep through her and penetrate all the way into her marrow, bolstering her from within and giving her a second wind she hadn't even known she'd needed. Soon enough she felt that same reiatsu surge towards her in a much more concentrated, focused form, and knew that the time had come. The smile on her face only grew wider as she saw a shock of bright orange hair crest the horizon, charging towards her.

_It's about time, carrot-top_, she thought, and the young Kuchiki swore she heard Ichigo chuckle in her head.

* * *

The remaining Soul Reapers spread out in a wide formation, waiting for the inevitable onslaught that Aizen had surely scheduled to start as soon as Ichigo and Yoruichi were out of the picture. Jushiro and Shunsui stood side-by-side, Komamura carved a tall, imposing presence and Byakuya and Zaraki made for the perfect counterpoint: one of them fairly tingled with excitement for the upcoming slaughter, while the other divorced himself from any and all emotions until the last drop of his enemy's blood had been spilled. Soi Fon and Grimmjow were running a scouting patrol to raise the alarm when first contact was made, while Ulquiorra and Neliel stood stoically, waiting for the first move to be made and making certain not to exert themselves needlessly before that time. Renji stood nearby Senna, the red-haired Soul Reaper sensing her nervousness and putting a hand gently, but reassuringly, on her shoulder.

Toshiro and Karin had a whole corner to themselves; or rather, the awesome fury of Hyorinmaru _needed_ a whole corner just to avoid collateral damage. Gin and Rangiku were only as far apart as Shinso could comfortably reach, and Unohana stood seemingly apart from the group but just close enough to Uryu to keep an eye on him. Hisagi and some of the other Lieutenants formed their own line of defense with him at the core, and finally Urahara stood perched on the roof like an albatross, Benihime unsealed and held out perpendicular to his body. The zanpakuto pulsed with red energy, and was constantly sweeping the horizon for any approaching blood to sing out of its veins. Kisuke had also forced her to partition out a bit of her power to follow Yoruichi specifically; if anything happened to the Shihoin princess during the duel, he wanted to be the first to know.

So the Soul Reapers were arranged, some waiting patiently and others nervously as the seconds melted away, moving inexorably towards the battle that would test them all to the breaking point. Orihime sat indoors, fighting to keep from quivering in the face of possible doom. Yachiru, who had chosen to be her bodyguard, sat next to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Don'tcha worry about it, boobies," she said, still using her old nickname for Inoue. "With Ken-chan and everyone else out there, there's no way anyone or anything is going to break all the way in here. And if anything does, I'll make sure they regret it," the Lieutenant finished, a seriousness in her voice that was completely at odds with the young girl Orihime had once known. Then again, Yachiru had changed since then, along with a lot of other things. Bowing her head reverentially, the healer said a prayer for all of her friends and their allies before raising her head and looking out of the window towards the horizon, where Ichigo was no doubt about to begin his clash with Aizen.

"Good luck, Kurosaki-kun," she whispered. "Bring Kuchiki-san back safely, and don't you die either!"

* * *

Ichigo stopped flash-stepping and walked the last few steps towards a calmly-waiting Aizen, taking Tensa Zangetsu by the chain and spinning it around almost absent-mindedly, as he'd seen his Hollow do before. A sense of power pervaded his entire being like a drug, lifting him up higher and higher until he had to force himself back down to reality; as much as he knew he couldn't afford lose this fight, underestimating someone like Sosuke Aizen was a mistake he simply couldn't make, not now. Seeing the look of surprise on the traitor Captain's face made Ichigo smirk, though: maybe, for the first time, someone had managed to throw Sosuke a truly inescapable curveball.

"What's wrong, Aizen?" Kurosaki taunted, ceasing to spin his _bankai_ around and holding it firmly in his right hand. "You look nervous."

The look of surprise faded as soon as it had come, the traitor Captain's placid expression restored at once.

"No, nothing," he said lightly. "Merely an… unforeseen turn of events, boy; nothing insurmountable. It will simply prolong the struggle, but the outcome will not change."

Ichigo chuckled, turning his eyes to his loved one.

"You hanging in there, midget?" he called out, and Rukia was about to shout back a quip until she realized just how different Ichigo felt, and her eyes went wide with shock.

"Ichigo," she gasped out. "You… you're…"

"A true Soul Reaper now, yeah," he finished, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"But, why did you—"

"If you're going to ask me why I gave up my life for your sake, Rukia," Ichigo cut her off, "I'm going to incinerate every single bunny-related object you own. I did it because I had to save you, pure and simple. I did it because I love you, you idiot."

Rukia was stunned into silence, but the moment between the two of them was soon shattered by a mocking voice that spoke with sinister amusement.

"I wouldn't get her hopes up, boy," The former Captain said. "It'll just make it that much more painful for Rukia when I kill you before her eyes."

The brown-eyed Soul Reaper frowned, brandishing the katana that was his _bankai_.

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, you bastard," he growled, motioning with his eyes for Yoruichi to step back. The Shihoin princess nodded and flashed away to the side, giving Ichigo a wide berth with which to fight. Aizen drew Kyoka Suigetsu from its sheath, before pausing and smirking in a way that made Ichigo feel like he was being frozen solid from the inside out.

"What do you say we make things… a little more interesting, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

The Soul Reaper's frown deepened, his voice edgy.

"What are you talking about?"

Sosuke Aizen was apparently a man who firmly believed that actions spoke louder than words.

"_Hado number 4: Byakurai_."

Ichigo watched in mute horror as the bolt of lighting pierced clean through the right side of Rukia's chest, the intensity just low enough that it didn't cauterize the wound on the way through.

"Looks like you better hurry up and defeat me," Aizen mused, "or your precious Rukia's going to bleed out before you can heal her. And don't even think about interfering, Shihoin," he added sharply, "or I'll shove the _rikujokoro_ straight through her spine. Complete paralysis from the waist down would be most inconvenient, don't you think, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

Sosuke turned back to face his opponent, only to be greeted by a _getsuga tensho_ that would have sheared off the top half of his skull had his hand been a second slower. As it was, Aizen struggled not to grimace as he felt the searing energy scar his hand before he batted it away like a pesky fly.

"Impressive, child," the traitor Captain allowed. "Perhaps you have a chance after all."

"Shut the fuck up!" Ichigo shouted, striking out with his blade as hard as he could. He landed a solid blow on Aizen, only to have him vanish into thin air.

_Oh, no..._

Spinning around as quickly as he could, Kurosaki saw his enemy holding out one of his hands with the fingers splayed apart, preparing a powerful _kido_.

"_Hado number 90: Kurohitsugi_."

Time slowed down to a crawl for the orange-haired Soul Reaper. He could hear Rukia shouting out his name in despair, while all Yoruichi could do was inhale sharply in fear. Ichigo saw the small black orb of energy form in Sosuke's hand that was the nucleus of the spell, and knew that if he didn't do something to stop it now he was going to be in very, very bad shape. Boosting his reiatsu up as far as it could go, the brown-eyed Soul Reaper saw with satisfaction that his surroundings slowed down even further, to the point where he could see the orb spinning in Aizen's hand. It was a huge drain on Ichigo's power, though, and he knew that he would have to act fast if he wanted to succeed before he burned himself out.

Quickly remembering Yoruichi's words about the basics of _Hanki_, Ichigo formed a crude orb of raw _kido_ energy in his hand and hoped this worked. Charging forward, he focused as hard as he could on every single minute detail of the orb resting in his enemy's hand, which was growing bigger and bigger in preparation for bursting out into the devastating 'Black Cofffin' spell. Subconsciously willing the orb in his hand to take on those characteristics as well and trusting his instincts to handle the rest, the orange-haired Soul Reaper thrust his hand forward over Aizen's hard enough to create what he hoped would be backspin. For a moment the world around him froze completely, and Ichigo's breath caught in his throat.

Then, as if time had realized someone had been cheating and decided to overcompensate for being elongated, the world slammed back to life so sharply that Kurosaki almost felt winded just from the sensation. Sosuke froze in shock at the idea that someone could have moved that fast, and his shock only increased as he felt his _kido_ fizzle out in his hand. Ichigo knew he didn't have much time to exploit this rare opening, so he just did what came naturally: continuing the movement of his hand forward, he angled it upwards, curled it into a fist and slammed it as hard as he could into Aizen's chin.

The spurt of blood that arced outwards from the traitor Captain's mouth and the purple bruise that formed on the part of his jaw that was most likely broken were immensely gratifying outcomes to the orange-haired Soul Reaper, but he also knew that he had to get out of close range before his opponent could strike back. Ichigo still had a scar on his right pectoral muscle where Sosuke had decided to pull an 'Ulquiorra special' the first time they had battled, punching a hole straight through Kurosaki's chest that had very nearly killed him. Pushing backwards off of his heels, Ichigo readied Tensa Zangetsu and waited, every muscle in his body tense and ready to spring.

It did not escape the brown-eyed Soul Reaper's notice that Aizen was a bit slower getting back on his feet than normal, or that he had switched his sword arm from the dominant right side to the weaker left side. So his opponent wasn't invincible after all, and he was still hurting from his earlier duel with Saika; that was good to know.

"You have certainly grown more ruthless than when I saw you last, Ichigo Kurosaki," Sosuke said pleasantly, a sly smirk on his face.

"Perhaps the fully awakened Hollow Form you used to avenge your weakling of a sister's death never quite abated."

Ichigo knew that Aizen was trying to coerce him into doing something stupid, and refused to rise to the bait.

"You'd better hope so," he shot back, "because if I'm not even tapping into my Hollow powers right now, you're as good as dead."

Sosuke's infuriating smile just widened.

"From the looks of it," he spoke, "so is Rukia."

Ichigo couldn't keep his eyes from straying over to the violet-eyed Kuchiki, and the traitor Captain pounced faster than a cheetah finishing off a wounded gazelle. It was only the speed provided by Kurosaki's _bankai_ that kept him from being cut clean in half, but he still came away with a vicious gash across his chest.

"Don't take your eyes away from the enemy, Ichigo Kurosaki," Aizen said mockingly. "That's the most basic of battle tactics. And here I thought you'd grown into an opponent worthy enough to face me at full strength," he mused, his voice turning almost whimsical.

"What a shame," he said, holding Kyoka Suigetsu out in front of him. "It's been so long since I've had a good fight. Well, there's no sense in dragging out this mercy killing any longer:

"_Bankai: Yuutai Kyoka Suigetsu._"

Ichigo felt a deep, primal fear surge up from within him as the final form of Sosuke Aizen's zanpakuto was revealed. He waited for something earth-shatteringly destructive to occur…

And the sword vanished. Kyoka Suigetsu, the sword that had sown so much chaos, and caused so much bloodshed, disappeared into the air completely. Still, as much as he wanted to let his guard down, the fear coiled deep in his stomach refused to go away. Aizen smiled a wide, vicious grin that would have put Grimmjow to shame, lifted his hand high, and demonstrated the true power of his zanpakuto.

Suddenly Ichigo found himself face-to-face with his Inner Hollow, in all of its swaggering, sneering glory.

"Another illusion, huh?" Ichigo said. "Don't screw with me!"

Running forward, he cut downwards with Tensa Zangetsu, expecting to cut through the illusion cleanly and painlessly.

That was when the Inner Hollow illusion _moved_, hoisting its own, inversed Zangetsu and blocking the strike, before checking Ichigo hard in the chest with his free hand and causing Kurosaki's lifeblood to ebb from the wound even faster.

"What the… hell?" the brown-eyed Soul Reaper gasped out, before the white creature was upon him. Only a frantic, desperate block saved Ichigo's head from being split open like an overripe grapefruit, and Aizen's mocking voice cut through Ichigo's dismay, as light as he had ever heard it.

"Are you curious about the power of my _bankai_, child?" he asked. "Allow me to elucidate it in a way that your feeble mind will be able to comprehend.

"The illusions of my Kyoka Suigetsu are ephemeral, fading as soon as they have been struck at with enough conviction to be forced into submission. My _bankai_ obliterates this weakness, allowing me to create tangible versions of my illusions, hence '_yuutai_'. Now, Ichigo Kurosaki," he finished, clenching his fist and re-animating his puppet, "prepare to die."

Ichigo clashed fiercely with his 'Hollow', trying to ignore the blood seeping from both his and Rukia's veins. He knew that he had to take down Aizen to dispel the illusion, but it was hard to focus on that when the illusion in question was as fast as he was, angrier than he was _and_ wielded Zangetsu. And unlike Kyoka Suigetsu's normal illusions, this one could cut. And when it cut, it cut to kill. The only benefit Ichigo seemed to have was that this thing couldn't go _bankai_, which would have been all but a death sentence for him in this state. As their blades clashed once more and the Soul Reaper stared down the manic avatar, the voice of the real Inner Hollow screamed out inside the Brown-eyed Soul Reaper's head.

"_What the hell are you waiting for?_" he yelled. "_Call me out! Do it now or we're both dead!_"

Kurosaki had never heard his Hollow sounding anything close to afraid before now, but there was clearly a first time for everything. And if even his inner berserker was feeling the pain, Ichigo had to be in worse shape than he thought. Concentrating as hard as he could, the brown-eyed Soul Reaper put his hand to his forehead and pulled downwards, summoning his mask.

The wave of power that surged into him was so twisted and intense it almost bowled him over, but Ichigo was relieved to find that his control over the power his Inner Hollow gave him had not diminished in the slightest following his metamorphosis into a true Soul Reaper. Snarling, the unchained Vizard struck back against his assailant again and again, urged on by the psychopathic cackles of his bloodthirsty evil twin inside his head. Once the puppet had lost balance, Ichigo brutally bludgeoned it into the ground before looking up at Aizen, fury shining deep within his black and yellow eyes. The need to make this man suffer sang throughout every cell of his blood, and as the raving Vizard brought one hand out in front of him, that hatred found physical form.

Sosuke's eyes widened as he witnessed the red, tri-focused _cero_ begin to coalesce, wondering how and when the boy had mastered the manifestation of the purest form of Hollow energy. Even he had not been able to fully master it, having only reached the stages of _bala_, and yet this arrogant pup was standing before him now summoning a _cero_ equal in power to all but that of the highest Espada. How had he done it?!

"_How do you think?_" his own Inner Hollow said acidly. "He _actually _talks _to his Hollow, unlike you. Not everything in this world can be treated like a tool, Sosuke._"

The traitor Captain willfully ignored the voice of his Inner Hollow, focusing instead on how to avoid his rather imminent and gruesome demise. Jacking up his reiatsu as high as he could in the limited time he had before the beam made contact, Aizen could only hope that it would be enough to at least dampen the force of the heinously powerful _cero_. Pulling on his own mask, Sosuke formed the two biggest _bala_ he could, one in each hand, and forged them into an impromptu shield just as the blast slammed into him. As the immense concentration of negative energy continued to grind murderously against his barrier, the traitor Captain's eyes widened in shock and fear as he felt his _bala_ crumble, the _cero_ ripping through him with the might of divine retribution.

Ichigo watched his attack collide with Aizen and a feral gleam sprung up in his features, before he noticed Rukia's limp form and thoroughly bloodstained clothing. Horrified, his mask shattered as the Soul Reaper flash-stepped instantly to her side, gently cupping her chin as he tilted her face up to look into her eyes and finding them glassy and vacant. Feeling for a pulse, only leaden silence greeted him as Ichigo felt his heart fracture and break. Scalding tears rolled down his cheeks as he was faced with a reality as cold as his loved one's form: Rukia was gone.

Turning inward and feeding off of his grief, Ichigo sent out one last, desperate pulse of reiatsu, the message in it carved as loud and clear as a trumpet blast:

_Orihime, get over here, NOW._

* * *

As soon as Ichigo and Yoruichi had departed, Captain Ukitake made sure that everyone was spread out wide enough to avoid collateral damage as much as possible one last time before he felt the air grow suddenly thick with reiatsu. It was clear that the battle would be upon them soon, and the last thing they could allow was to be ambushed and hacked to pieces before a proper defense could even be mounted. Gin was given an especially wide berth to work his magic with Shinso, so that he could avoid slicing his own allies in half if a swing went a bit too far.

Grimmjow and Soi Fon returned from their most recent patrol not a moment too soon; the instant their flash-steps touched down, _garganta_-like rifts opened up all around the Soul Reapers. Aizen had apparently taught his demons how to travel like Hollows instead of using the gaudy wrought-iron gates, and the mobility it granted them was frightening. All four sides of the Shiba household were instantaneously surrounded, and all of the warriors found their hands full without so much as a roar of warning from their enemies to ready themselves.

As was to be expected, Kenpachi took the field first with crazed peels of laughter, followed closely by Byakuya Kuchiki in his Vizard form. The two killing machines, one honed and one completely reckless, each indulged in their own particular brand of bloodlust and were soon weaving tapestries of viscera with their sword blades. Egged on by the display of prowess, Grimmjow unsealed his zanpakuto and promptly vanished, using his serrated blade to slash some demons to ribbons and force others to bleed out that he didn't have time to finish off himself.

Shunsui and Jushiro were a counterpoint to the chaos raging on the other side of the manor from them; never straying further than sword's reach from one another, four blades danced and arced as one, singing a four-part round of carnage. As one half of Sogyo no Kotowari rose up, damp with blood, one of the curved blades that comprised the pair known as Katen Kyokotsu would descend and finish the blow. Moving in calm, controlled steps that seemed to intuit the other's actions instinctively, the two Captains felled demon after demon without giving up a single inch of ground themselves. As their rhythm became more up-tempo and aggressive Kyoraku began to laugh, reveling in the first true battle he'd had in quite some time. Jushiro couldn't help but smile in kind as he fought along with his best friend, glorying in the feel of strength surging through his veins and the confident warmth of his comrade at his back.

Rangiku was beginning to wonder if Haineko was still working right; for every one of these monsters she cut down, two or three more would spring up in its place, howling and ravenous. Even when she pushed herself to the limit, Matsumoto's web of abrasive ash was doing nothing to stem the tide. Wishing that she'd spent more time trying to get her lazy, happy-go-lucky zanpakuto to achieve its _bankai_, the Lieutenant let rip one last gale of gnawing ashes before bracing herself for the inevitable counter attack. As expected, a score of the demons went down in a spray of blood and a chorus of bestial grunts. There were still at least five monstrosities still standing, though, their lacerations only compounding their lust for brutality. Rangiku felt her muscles burning from exertion, and her eyelids were beginning to feel like weights she had no interest in keeping aloft anymore. Just when her knees began to buckle, Matsumoto felt a warm, comforting presence slide along her cheek.

"Shoot to kill, Shinso."

Gin's zanpakuto kept extending past the exhausted Lieutenant, skewering the demon closest to her and killing it instantly. Rangiku still had no idea how the weapon that seemed to her to radiate strength and protection was the same blade of cold steel that felled everything it touched, but Shinso was the kind of oxymoron that perfectly summed up its wielder.

"You all right, Ran-chan?" Ichimaru's silken voice asked gently but insistently, his tone pure concern even as his zanpakuto left her cheek and slashed through the rest of the demons that had been encroaching murderously towards Matsumoto. The wave of relief that swept through her body then rose up from the tips of her toes, easing away the pain of her wounds while also making her limbs feel even more wobbly than they had been before. She quickly found herself braced by Gin's deceptively muscular arms, and the former Captain began to chant a brisk, urgent _kido_. When he finished, there was a flash of turquoise light and Rangiku felt like three doses of Fourth Division's energy pills had been shot right into her bloodstream; springing back to her feet, Matsumoto had to resist the urge to start bouncing off of the nearest wall.

"Got'cher second wind, Rangiku?" Ichimaru asked with plain amusement in his voice. "Why don't you put it to good use?"

Matsumoto only spared her best friend the one glance needed to stick her tongue out at him petulantly before the air around her transformed into a scathing tornado of ash, every ounce of the Lieutenant's newfound strength being harnessed for the purpose of destroying the demons that had very nearly destroyed her.

Some distance away, Ulquiorra Schiffer couldn't keep from frowning as he blasted away yet another demon that had managed to flank Neliel.

"How many times do I have to tell you, woman?" he ground out as his _raikoho_ put a hole through straight through another demon and reduced it to cinders. "Watch your back!"

Far from being concerned for her wellbeing, Nel Tu was smiling widely as her zanpakuto slashed and stabbed its way through the horde.

"If you're doing your job right, Ulquiorra," she quipped as her blade found its mark again with unerring precision, "I shouldn't have to!"

"Infuriating," the former Fourth Espada muttered, but even as he vented his frustration by means of a _soren sokatsui_, a small smile still graced his face; he wouldn't have her any other way.

"Oh, yeah, that reminds me," Neliel said lightly as she severed a demon's head from its shoulders, the contrast between her actions and her attitude slightly disturbing Ulquiorra, "what was that thing you said you wanted to ask me about earlier, before we got interrupted?"

An odd lump formed in Schiffer's throat at the question, a sensation he still wasn't used to.

"It was a private question," he replied, having to raise his voice over the din of battle. "I do not believe now would be the best time for me to broach the topic."

The former Third Espada got a glimmer in her eyes that Ulquiorra knew to mean she was about to push one of his buttons, and he began to feel very apprehensive.

"Is that _fear_ I hear in your voice, _Ulqui-chan_?" She asked, going for the jugular and combining his two greatest peeves: being accused of having fear, and being called by a cutesy nickname.

"I do not want anyone overhearing me," he parried weakly, knowing that he was close to losing the argument but too preoccupied with surviving to care.

"Whisper it to me, then!" Nel insisted as she shoved her sword into yet another poor victim with a gleeful ease that made Schiffer shiver on the inside, a sort of tacit sign that he would suffer the same fate if he didn't spill what was on his mind.

"Fine," he grumbled, erecting a triple _danku_ barrier on all sides before leaning over and whispering the question into Neliel's ear. As it turned out, putting up so many barriers was a very good decision on Ulquiorra's part, because the former Third Espada's eyes doubled in size with shock and she gasped, her zanpakuto slipping out of her lax fingers. The tensest moment of Schiffer's second life so far passed in front of his eyes and, as nothing seemed to happen, he felt the edge of despair's knife creeping close to his heart, ready to cut it in two.

"Oh, Ulquiorra, I'd love to!"

The ecstatic shout banished the clenching feeling as soon as it had come and replaced it with the feeling of genuine happiness that made all the weaknesses of the heart worthwhile. Searching for the words to express how he felt and not finding them, Schiffer decided to throw modesty to the wind and took his newly-betrothed into an embrace that put the V-Day kiss to shame.

"Get a room, you two!"

Grimmjow's gruff but highly amused tenor cut smashed through the heartfelt moment with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, and it took every ounce of self-control in Ulquiorra's body to keep from tearing his comrade into bite-sized chunks. Neliel just laughed, the musical sound threatening to put a grin on Schiffer's face that could only be described as ludicrous for someone of his temperament.

"He has a point, dear," the green-haired warrior said, rolling the last word around in her mouth like a fine wine before letting it slip languorously out, its numerous implications sending the green-eyed Soul Reaper's heart pounding into overdrive.

"Shall we?"

Ulquiorra barely heard her question as he tore down the barriers separating him from a bunch of walking corpses: if getting rid of these monsters was what it would take to be able to truly celebrate his engagement, they'd be dust in five minutes flat.

Karin Kurosaki was struggling to stay focused on the battle at hand, mesmerized by the hundreds of thousands of tiny blades that made up the storm known as _Senbonsakura Kageyoshi_.

"Damn it, Kurosaki," Hitsugaya all-but snarled as he ripped through another row of demons with the power of Hyorinmaru, his eyes pulsing bluish-green with strength,

"Pay attention!"

"I'm sorry!" Karin called out, lancing through another demon with a bolt of black lightning before her eyes were drawn inexorably back to the shimmering blades.

"They're just… so… pretty," she breathed out, and Toshiro funneled his immense exasperation into fueling the slaughter he was currently engaged in. Not only was this girl the most nerve-wracking person to play chess with _ever_, she was making goo-goo eyes during the middle of battle at Byakuya Kuchiki's _bankai_.

"Remind me why I put up with you again?" he asked, the sly humor in his voice taking the edge off of the taunt. Karin frowned at him for a moment before deciding to throw the icy Captain for a loop of his own; grabbing him by the shoulders, she pulled him forward into a searing kiss that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. As they broke apart, the dark-eyed Kurosaki looked into those adorably shocked emerald-blue eyes and smirked.

"_That's_ why, Toshiro," she said, leaving a stunned Hitsugaya catching his breath subconsciously while Karin went about the business of picking up his slack.

"Now who's not paying attention, Captain?" she jibed with mock innocence, drawing a growl from the white-haired Soul Reaper that was anything but.

"That was hardly the same thing!" he shouted, his anger taking him all the way to _bankai_. The dark-haired Soul Reaper's smile just widened as she watched the prodigy tear though demon after demon with hormonally-fueled abandon: messing with him was going to be so much fun.

Kenpachi Zaraki was starting to feel bored, and it pissed him off. Dealing with these scum was like shooting fish in a barrel; there was no challenge in it at all. Looking over his shoulder, he smirked at the Vizard nearby.

"Oi, Kuchiki," he called out. "You want to go a round?"

His question was met with an incredulous glare.

"You can't be serious," Byakuya deadpanned, flicking his wrist almost absentmindedly and eviscerating a demon or six in a blizzard of shimmering blades.

The Eleventh Division Captain flashed a deranged smile, his one visible eye glowing with the rush of battle.

"Do I ever make jokes about shit like this, Kuchiki? Come on, at least slash me up a bit; I want to make this fight interesting!"

"I am not here to facilitate your psychotic death-wish, Kenpachi Zaraki," the noble said evenly as the hurricane of blades raged on around him. Zaraki chuckled ruefully.

"Be that way," he groused, reaching up to take a hold of his eyepatch. "I guess I'll just have to massacre all of these wimps, and hope Aizen has something stronger hidden up his sleeve!"

Ripping off his reiatsu restraint, the spiky-haired Captain cackled madly as he released his _bankai_. The two-pronged storm of reiatsu was enough to give the Lieutenants pounding headaches, and even some of the other Captains grimaced uncomfortably. The fearsome duo of Kenpachi and the incarnation of his killing intent charged headlong into the crush of demons, cutting them down like the scythe of the Grim Reaper herself. The horde could do nothing but crumble in the face of the malicious, frenzied yellow reiatsu that seemed to hunger like an insatiable leviathan, swallowing up the blood and the corpses and the earth and clamoring for seconds and thirds. After several minutes of berserker rage, Zaraki finally felt the strength in his arm beginning to flag.

What he didn't know was that Aizen had instructed his most elite demon to not emerge until Kenpachi's reiatsu had begun to dim and fade from its zenith.

What Aizen didn't know was that Kenpachi had been waiting for that moment, too, and used kendo to give his drained reiatsu a boost as soon as a massive rift opened up in the sky, blotting out the sun itself. The creature that emerged from the tear was a massive, coiling dragon, with gore-stained fangs that contrasted sharply with its midnight-black eyes. Its scales were a rotting patchwork of tarnished silver, pale gray and pitch black, with a group of them sloughing off every few moments to reveal pulsing, scarred flesh and muscle underneath.

The Nidhogg, one of the Old Gods and harbinger of the apocalypse, had been unleashed after countless eons imprisoned in the blackness. It was huge, powerful, starved and unbelievably wrathful, with no target on which to vent its rage until now. With a mighty roar, it descended upon its prey in a mass of fury and killing intent the likes of which no world had seen since before the dawn of man.

All of the Soul Reapers had gathered together to form a final bulwark against this new evil, but even the most veteran of their number were unsure of their chances. As dark, hellspawned fire began curling in the beast's maw, those chances became even more uncertain. Zaraki was swept aside by the raging black flame as effortlessly as a piece of dust, ugly burns marring his already scarred skin even further. From the look of it, the only thing that had saved him from being completely butchered by the assault was the shield created by his absurdly high reiatsu.

Making things even worse, it appeared as though the dragon's hide was completely impenetrable. Senbonsakura was impotent against the beast, and even Soi Fon using _shunko_ at full power and moving like a capoeira master on speed failed to yield a single spot where the dragon was vulnerable. As Captain after Captain was rendered gravely wounded or unconscious by injury, it seemed as though the Soul Reapers would not survive to see the light of the sun that had been obscured by this fiendish presence. Eventually only Byakuya, Gin, Urahara, Shunsui and Toshiro were left standing, bruised and battered but not defeated. As Hitsugaya was preparing to release his _bankai_ in one final, soul-draining attack, the voice of Hyorinmaru stopped him in his tracks.

'_I found it!_'

Toshiro tried not to snap as the vague exclamation frayed what precious little was left of his nerves.

'Found _what_, Hyorinmaru?' he asked back, hoping that the dragon above them didn't notice he was talking to himself and exploit that opening to attack.

'_Every single dragon has a weak spot,_' Hyorinmaru elaborated. '_Even I did, before I became a zanpakuto. The problem when you're trying to kill a dragon, however, is that this weak spot does not remain in a fixed location._

'_With every major molting cycle, it shifts as one layer of scales rises up to replace the previous, dying layer. I finally found where the Nidhogg's weak spot lies now: it is a single scale wide, midway up the spine. If we can find a way to strike it there, it will fall more effortlessly than autumn leaves.'_

While Hitsugaya was definitely bolstered by this revelation, it raised another question entirely: how the hell was he going to get around to the back of that monster without being swatted out of the sky, find the weak spot _and_ strike at it without missing, seeing as how it was likely to be the size of a sake bottle? Looking over at his comrades who were still standing, the white-haired prodigy turned all of his formidable intellect towards thinking of a solution to the problem. Just as the Nidhogg reared back for another powerful lunge, Toshiro faced his fellow Soul Reapers and the Quincy and spoke.

"The three of you," he said, meaning everyone but Gin, "set up as good a diversion as you possibly can. I know how to take this thing down, but I need a clear shot at it. Do you think you can manage that?"

The three warriors heard the conviction in the green-eyed Captain's voice and nodded their heads, but Gin was still puzzled.

"And what exactly am I supposed to be doing, Captain?" he querried, and Toshiro smiled.

"You're going to launch me," he answered.

Ichimaru arched a fine silver eyebrow at that pronouncement.

"I'm going to what-now?"

"How much weight can your zanpakuto support when it extends?" Hitsugaya pressed, unconcerned with Gin's skepticism.

"However much it needs to," was the reply. "Why do you ask?"

The beast's roar signaled the beginning of its assault, and Toshiro mouthed a silent prayer to whatever God or Goddess was willing to listen that this worked.

"There's no time," he said, hurrying over to Ichimaru's side and jumping up, balancing himself gracefully on Shinso's tip.

"My _bankai_ moves too slowly to get behind this bastard on its own," Toshiro elaborated hastily. "I need you to launch me to get some momentum, or I won't be traveling fast enough! Now do it, before we all die!"

Gin muttered something like 'It's your funeral,' before readying himself and speaking the command.

"Shoot to kill, Shinso."

Toshiro felt himself fly up into the air like a cannon shot, tensing and pushing off to give himself even more speed. Powerful _kido_, the vicious onslaught of Byakuya's _Nibai Senbonsakura Kageyoshi_ and the terrible wrath of Benihime's _bankai_ proved to be enough to distract the dragon from the Captain soaring past him, and Hitsugaya stopped himself on a dime once he had gone far enough. Converting his momentum into a powerful wind-up, he brandished Hyorinmaru while scanning frantically for the weak spot; soon enough, the Niddhog would be on to him and wheel around, and this had to be finished before then. Just as the dragon roared in pain and rage and began to turn, Toshiro saw the gap in the scales right where Hyorinmaru said it would be and smiled victoriously.

"Reign over the frozen heavens, Hyorinmaru!" he shouted as he swung the blade down, sending a concentrated and slim dragon racing towards the one gap in the evil dragon's armor. The Niddhog gave an unholy shriek as it was pierced, writhing in agony for a few moments before the dragon began to gnaw furiously at its own flesh in its anger, the final victim of its own hatred.

Right when the sun re-emerged in the sky, however, this herald of tranquility was interrupted by a much more ominous messenger.

_Orihime,_ Ichigo's voice called out like a thunderclap, _get over here. NOW._

The orange-haired healer had been safely ensconced within the reinforced walls of the Shiba household throughout the battle, but when she heard her name being called so urgently Inoue was on her feet in an instant and racing outside. Both Urahara and Byakuya accompanied her, with Kuchiki carrying her along as he flash-stepped; after all, Ichigo had failed to mention whom exactly Orihime needed to heal.

They just hoped they weren't already too late.

* * *

Inoue saw the scene come into focus in front of her and she had to bite back a horrified scream; Kurosaki-kun had been beaten half-to-death despite his Vizard form's tolerance for injury, and Kuchiki-san…

Kuchiki-san wasn't breathing, or even moving.

Dashing forward as fast as she could, Orihime activated her healing shield without even saying the words as Ichigo ripped the _rikujokoro_ apart like so many pieces of paper and laid his loved on down on the ground. He seemed to relax slightly as the golden field engulfed Rukia, but grief was still visibly etched into his face. The air was tense and silent for the next few moments as the violet-eyed Soul Reaper's life hung in the balance, but as soon as her chest started to move again and she drew a shaky breath everyone present relaxed. After a few more moments Rukia could stand on her own, albeit shakily, and Ichigo allowed himself a rare, genuine smile. The group began to make preparations to flash away when Yoruichi's eyes went wide and she gasped.

"No…"

All eyes followed the Shihoin princess' gaze, widening in kind as they saw what stood before them.

Sosuke Aizen, torn and bloody and mangled, had somehow managed to bring himself to his feet and was preparing to cast a full-powered _kurohitsugi_; a spell that, this time, Ichigo had no chance of stopping.

But the spell was never cast. The image of Aizen faded away, a product of Kyoka Suigetsu. Instead of being greeted by a chorus of angels, the Soul Reapers and Orihime were treated to a much more horrific sound: a second after the illusion vanished, Yoruichi yet out a strangled scream that was accompanied in gruesome unison by the sound of a blade stabbing clean through flesh. Turning around, the shocked Soul Reapers saw the real Sosuke Aizen leave his sword lodged in the golden-eyed Soul Reaper's chest, his eyes shining with madness as Kyoka Suigetsu began to glow with strange blue energy.

"One last illusion," he crowed as he stepped away from the falling body of Yoruichi Shihoin, his voice broken and raspy. "I had one last chance, and it worked. Kill me now if you want, Kisuke Urahara," he continued, chuckling weakly as the Twelfth Division Captain tried to will his friend back to consciousness with urgent pleas and bitter tears,

"It doesn't matter. As soon as my Kyoka Suigetsu has finished melding with that maelstrom of energy inside your whore's womb, that embryo will become the vessel for my reincarnation. It's a little trick I picked up from Szayel, in fact, only improved. Feel free to act impressed, if you like; all I need are four more seconds, and none of you can kill me that quickly."

"I can."

Sode no Shirayuki's sealed blade came down in a perfect arc behind Aizen, slicing the traitor Captain's head clean off of his shoulders. Looking down at the corpse of the man who had killed her, Rukia spat a stream of blood down upon it and smirked, rage simmering in her eyes.

"I told you I'd kill you, you bastard," she said coldly, uttering no last rites and offering no burial to the body as she turned away, leaving it for the vultures.

Kyoka Suigetsu ceased to pulse with energy and vanished entirely, but did not take the wound away as it departed. Urahara quickly laid his best friend on her back and tried to close the wound, but the malevolent reiatsu was too strong for him to close it entirely, even with the large amount of reiatsu at his disposal. It was enough to allow Yourichi to open up her eyes, however, and she turned a bittersweet gaze on Kisuke as she did so, laying on of her hands on top of his and offering a thin, sad smile.

"It's okay," she whispered, and the blond-haired man turned to hold her gaze, his grey eyes dim with shock and sorrow.

"It's okay," she repeated softly, her eyes beginning to flutter. "You can let me go, Kisuke."

"No!" Urahara growled, trying to force his friend to stay with him. "No, I can't! I never could, and I never will, can't you see that? I love you!"

Yoruichi's eyes gleamed brightly for a moment, and her familiar fanged grin came out for one last encore.

"Silly boy," she said, "I know. I lo—"

Before she could finish, her breath left its body behind and her eyelids came down, sealing off those mischievous, vibrant golden orbs from the light of day.

Kisuke let out something comparable to a howl, his hands digging into the orange folds of Yoruichi's clothing and staying there until the thin, strong hands of Byakuya Kuchiki pried them away and pulled him off of the corpse, the noble's own heart cracking with every mournful moan, guttural groan or stricken scream Urahara forced from his throat. The Captain was oblivious to everything outside of his pain, be it the red-clothed figure that knelt solicitously over him like a mother by her son's sickbed, the sympathetic looks of his comrades or even the orange-haired girl focusing all of her might on repeating what had already been a miracle, even as she was drained of most of her strength.

Just as the wound closed up completely and the blood stopped flowing, Orihime fainted into the waiting, strong arms of Ichigo Kurosaki. As he carried his friend in his arms, the orange-haired Soul Reaper began to speak.

"When we get back, I'll make sure to tell the cooks to make you whatever you want to eat, no matter how weird it may look or smell, Orihime."

The girl's ears perked up at that, and her gray eyes opened to half-lidded.

"Really?" she asked slowly, still half asleep and fading quickly back into slumber.

"Really," Ichigo echoed, running a hand through her hair gently. "You earned it."

Urahara sat cross-legged on the ground, immobile and lost in the dark abyss of grief. He barely even noticed when someone removed the hat from his head, giving nothing more than a half-hearted grunt of protest.

"Hey," a rich, comforting voice floated over his numbed ears, "if you're not going to take this thing back, does that mean I finally get to throw it away?"

Kisuke's eyes snapped open and his head jerked up so fast he almost broke his neck. His breath caught in his throat as his tear-blurred vision cleared to reveal the golden-eyed, purple-haired, dark-skinned goddess he thought he'd lost forever. Springing to his feet propelled by raw emotion, Kisuke took hesitant steps forward, as if he thought the figure before him was a mirage that could vanish at any moment. When he put his hand tenderly and disbelievingly on her cheek and she did not vanish, however, the shock in Urahara's eyes turned to wonder.

"How…?" he gasped, and Yoruichi just grinned.

"You really didn't think I'd leave without you, did ya? Come on, at least have some fai—"

Kisuke didn't give her a chance to finish, all but lunging forward and capturing those infuriating lips in the most feverish kiss he could imagine. When he broke apart from her, he noticed with some small amount of pride that her eyes were glazed over and her breathing was labored.

"Wow," she said after a moment. "You're good at that."

Putting a finger gently over her lips to make sure they stayed closed, Kisuke spoke.

"What you were saying to me, before you… well, you know," he took a deep breath, "you never finished. What were you going to say?"

"Silly boy?" she said, her voice teasing.

"After that," Urahara prompted, still high enough from sheer giddiness that he could let her theatrics slide, just this once.

"I know?"

"No," Kisuke said again, his heartbeat accelerating, "after that."

"Ahh!" Yourichi exclaimed, as if she really had been ignorant this whole time.

"I love you."

Kisuke moved in again and kissed her, quickly but with feeling, before moving back.

"Say it again."

"I'm pretty sure you heard me the first time, genius," the Shihoin princess mused, but now it was Urahara's turn to play the game.

"I can't think without my hat on," he parried, "so either repeat what you just said, or give me back my hat. The choice is yours, Yourichi."

"Hmm, that's a toughie," she temporized, before moving her mouth right next to his ear.

"I love you, Kisuke Urahara."

His heart skipped three beats before immediately falling into his stomach, every nerve in his body was tingling, his blood was on fire…

And Kisuke had never felt better in his life.

"Ahh, _that_ was it!" he said, the biggest grin on his face that Yoruichi had ever seen. "I thought so, but I just wanted to be sure. Scientific curiosity, you know," he finished, the smug undercurrent back in his voice. As Yoruichi stuck her tongue out at him petulantly, Ichigo's deep laugh could be heard beyond them.

"That is one beautiful sunset," the orange-haired Soul Reaper said, and the warriors took a moment to bask in its healing glow as it closed the curtain on this dark day and promised a brighter one to come. Turning to his friends, with an arm draped around Rukia's shoulders as Byakuya consented to carry Orihime the rest of the way, Ichigo smiled.

"Let's go home."

* * *

**A/N: **And thats the end of that chapter. There's still the epilogue to go, but the story has more or less been told. I hope you enjoyed it, twists, turns, ups, downs and all, and if you did, please tell me so by leaving a tasty, delicious **review**. Much love and appreciation to everyone who has reviewed so far, and especially the stalwarts, those who have stuck with me and my convoluted imagination throughout this wild ride. I've enjoyed it immensely, and I hope you have, too.

I'm sure I'll see at least some of you around for the epilogue, but until then, have a great one!

JP

PS-- To those of you waiting to see how certain, lingering plot-threads tie up, or tie in to the sequel to come, don't despair... that's what the epilogue is for!

PPS-- I'm sorry Ryuken didn't make an appearance; I was going to have there be an exchange between him and his son about Uyru not having any talent, but i ran out of space. Perhaps in the epilogue...?


	21. Coda

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach, or any of its characters; Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own the OCs that have appeared in this story, be they dead or alive. So please don't use them without first asking me for permission, thank you kindly.

**A/N: **A little something before we start, because I can't help it: I totally called Stark being the First Espada! I mixed up Halibel and Barragan, so this story will be a bit off-cannon with regards to her, but hey, 1 out of 3 ain't bad.

**Love Conquers All**

**Epilogue:** Coda

* * *

_Ten Years Later_

Ichigo cracked his eyes open and groaned; another late night doing an unholy amount of paperwork had passed into morning all-too-soon. Even with Rukia around as his Lieutenant to lighten the load, the orange-haired Soul Reaper was still stunned by the number of trees that had been sacrificed for the sole purpose of making his life difficult. Still half-asleep, Kurosaki noticed that the other half of the bed was cold, and had been for quite some time. Ichigo couldn't help but grin at that: Rukia was as much of a workaholic as her brother, even though she would deny it from sunup to sundown.

Rising to his feet and stretching languorously, the brown-eyed Soul Reaper trudged over to his dresser and opened to top drawer, revealing a pristine white _haori_ with a note on top of it, written in Rukia's elegant hand:

_I had this cleaned for you, carrot-top. The next time you and Renji decide to have a duel, though, deal with the fallout yourself, you jerk! _

_Love, Rukia._

Below the name was a doodle of a Chappy head that stood in stark contrast to the writing above it; where her penmanship was without peer in its grace, Rukia's drawing skills had always been the exact opposite. Chuckling, Ichigo put aside the note on top of the dresser and threw on the _haori_, still marveling at how comfortable it felt even after so many years of wearing it. The other Captains had seen no problem with awarding Ichigo the Captaincy of Fifth Division, especially seeing as how he had killed the previous Captain not once, but twice. Rukia had respectfully requested a transfer from her Captain, and Jushiro had been more than happy to comply.

As Kurosaki slid open the door to his quarters and braced himself for another day on the job, he was met with a greeting he had not received in quite some time:

A foot right to the face.

"Good Moooorning, Ichigoo!"

The Captain of Fifth Division flew backwards into the wall, stunned for a moment before he sprang to his feet and pointed a wrathful finger at his father.

"Damn it, old man!" he shouted. "What the hell was that for!?"

Isshin laughed, absentmindedly scratching his beard.

"I just wanted to check in on you and make sure you hadn't gone soft, my son! Really, though, you couldn't dodge that simple kick!? They must be giving those _haori_ away nowadays!"

"I hate you…" Ichigo grumbled, before walking over to his father, smiling, and giving him a hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Ichigo," Isshin said seriously as they broke apart, keeping his hands on his son's shoulders. "And I know that wherever she is, your mother's proud of you, too."

"Thanks, dad," the younger Kurosaki said sincerely, before the moment was interrupted by a messenger.

"Captain Kurosaki, sir!" the man knelt respectfully in the doorway, head facing down. Ichigo sighed.

"How many times do I have to tell you guys not to worry about the formalities with me?" he said half-to-himself, before addressing the messenger formally.

"Yeah, what is it?" he asked, dreading the most likely outcome.

"I have your paperwork agenda for the day, signed by Head Captains Kyoraku and Ukitake, sir."

And there it was.

"Thank you very much," Ichigo answered as cordially as he could manage, with completely forced gratitude as he took the report from the messenger like he was handling a bundle of snakes. As soon as the messenger was gone, the Captain growled.

"I hate that guy," he said, and Isshin laughed.

"Oh, come on, it's not his fault," the former Kenpachi said. "Besides, it's just paperwork. I'd take that over fighting any day."

Ichigo was incredulous at that, to say the least.

"What?!" he half-hollered. "How can you say that? Weren't you the _Kenpachi_? And how much paperwork did your division even have, anyway!?"

"A ton, trust me," his father replied ruefully, rubbing his forehead as if the mere memories were giving him a headache. "You try filling out collateral damage reports for a division full of berserkers and battle-hungry lunatics for a few weeks, and then I might take your moaning about paperwork seriously."

Ichigo considered those words for a moment, and realized that maybe his life wasn't as bad as it could be. The Fifth Division was still a few dozen Soul Reapers short of full strength, as the reorganization of the ranks was still finishing up following the aftermath of the war. Almost all of the people under Ichigo's command were good men and women, though; strong and hard-working, unlike the motley crew that comprised the Eleventh Division. That, and every hour he spent in the office was an hour he spent with Rukia, and that time was never wasted.

"Fair enough," the brown-eyed Soul Reaper replied, about to say something else when a gleeful shout cut him off.

"Grandpa!"

Isshin was almost knocked off of his feet as an orange-haired blur launched into his arms, hugging him tightly. The elder Kurosaki was taken aback for a moment before his trademark goofy grin appeared once again and he laughed joyously, ruffling the young one's hair as he did so.

"And how's my little Masaki doing?" he asked, and the girl in his arms looked up at him with bright violet eyes and smiled.

"Great! Mommy taught me a new _kido_ yesterday, and it was so awesome! Look, I made a drawing of it for you!"

The little Kurosaki procured a small notebook from within the folds of her robes and held it out to Isshin, beaming with pride. The former Kenpachi had the good grace not to chuckle as he saw the crude depiction of a bolt of lightning arcing through a dummy, but Ichigo wasn't as skilled as his father in the arts of tact.

"Like mother, like daughter," he muttered, thinking that Masaki wouldn't hear him but swiftly being proven wrong as the notebook smacked into his face with surprising force.

"I'd like to see you do better, daddy!" a fiery voice shot back, and it was Isshin's turn to laugh then.

"Like mother, like daughter, indeed," he mused, a wry smile on his face as he observed the scene, before straightening up, clearing his throat and putting Masaki down on the ground.

"Well, as much as I'd love to stay, I really must be off," he said, steeling himself against his granddaughter's whine and oh-so-persuasive puppy-dog eyes. "Yuzu's college graduation is today, and I can't miss it. My girl got done with that early, just like I knew she would. Stay sharp, Ichigo," he said before he flashed away, leaving the orange-haired Soul Reaper alone with his daughter.

"So, what do you have on your plate for today, kiddo?" he asked, and Masaki's brow furrowed in concentration.

"Well, first I have History with Kyoraku-sensei. Then, _Kido_ Lessons with Schiffer-sensei. After that, there's just Combat Practice with Yoruichi-sensei," she finished, and Ichigo arched an eyebrow at the lack of enthusiasm his daughter seemed to have for the final class.

"What's wrong with Combat Practice?" Ichigo asked, and Masaki got the same look in her eyes his wife did when she was about to go on a rant.

"It's Kaien!" she fumed, referring to the dark-haired, grey-eyed scion of the re-established Kuchiki Clan.

"He just swaggers around like he's the best there is, when we all know Suzaku could wipe the floor with him if he really wanted to. And he's just so tall, and stupid, and…" Masaki paused her tirade, catching her breath before plunging on to the finale, "and he's a jerk!"

The young Kurosaki finished her speech with a gleam in her eyes, as if she dared anyone to prove her wrong. This time Ichigo did manage to keep from laughing, but he had to bite his tongue until it was almost bleeding to do it: the similarities between the two younglings' friendship were eerily similar to how he and Rukia had gotten along at first. The orange-haired Captain knew that deep down the two of them were good friends, but both of them would rather face Senbonsakura than admit it. Of course, friends or no, if Kaien ever did anything to really upset his little angel, Ichigo was going to make sure he regretted it.

"Well," he said affably, hiding his sudden mood-swing with a smile, "you had better get going to class; Captain Kyoraku might seem like a happy-go-lucky guy, but it makes him sad when people are late to his lesson."

Masaki's eyes widened briefly as she thought of such a thing occurring; to her, Kyoraku being sad would be like the sun falling out of the sky. If it happened, the laws of nature might just up and quit altogether, and she wouldn't have that on her shoulders. Giving her father a quick peck on the cheek, the orange-haired girl dashed off as fast as her legs could carry her. Ichigo chuckled and walked out into the hallway as well, winding his way around to his office. On the way there, he glanced in through an open door and saw Grimmjow drilling a group of raw recruits.

"Are you maggots fucking kidding me?" he snarled. "My daughter could flash-step better than you, and she's eight! Do it again, and do it right this time or I'll really get pissed!"

Ichigo shook his head and sighed; now was _not_ a good time to be a raw recruit in the SMC. As he continued to walk down the hallway, something small slammed into his leg and fell over, groaning. Looking down, Kurosaki saw a boy with messy blond hair, sharp golden eyes and an oil-and-grease-stained robe getting to his feet. The Captain smiled.

"Where are you running off to, Kikazaru?"

The boy looked up hazily, trying to figure out who or what he had just bumped in to. When his vision cleared, his eyes widened in shock.

"Captain Kurosaki!" he half-yelped. "I'm so sorry I bumped into you, sir! I was just on my way to get some supplies for the lab, and…" he was about to continue, but Ichigo cut him off with a wave.

"Don't worry about it. What does your dad have you cooking up now, just out of curiosity?"

"Oh, it's really exciting!" the kid said, his father's enthusiasm for tinkering shining in his eyes. "We're working on a way to extend the length of a _tenshintai_ from three days to five! I think we almost have it, but it might take a few more days to get right."

The eight-year-old clearly got his loquaciousness from his father, there was no doubt about that.

"Best of luck, kid," Ichigo said as Kikazaru dashed off, supplies bundled under his arms. Remembering that he had something he needed to ask the young Shihoin, the Captain called out to him.

"Where's your brother?"

The blond-haired grease-monkey skidded to a halt, shrugging his shoulders.

"I can't say for sure, but I'd check the dojo if I were you, sir!"

Kurosaki nodded his thanks and walked on, pondering the question of the oldest Shihoin child in his head. There was no question that Suzaku was powerful, and his potential to be a great Soul Reaper one day was unquestioned, but there was still one lingering concern that hung over everyone's heads.

Although Sosuke Aizen had been unable to fully subvert the embryo that had grown into Suzaku for his own needs, he had still embedded traces of himself in the nine-year old. The child was a brilliant tactician, but in combat he had the tendency to become almost sociopathic in his methods, exploiting weaknesses without hesitation and showing little mercy when someone made the mistake of pissing him off. Suzaku's zanpakuto was entirely his own, showing no traces of Kyoka Suigetsu, but the same couldn't be said for his memories. As a final parting gift, Aizen had left his memories buried within the orange-eyed child. They emerged over time and at random moments, striking with hallucinogen-level strength. The young prince had turned to Ichigo for help in controlling the outbursts and keeping his own identity separate from that of the former Fifth Division Captain, and Kurosaki had been happy to lend a hand.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Ichigo found himself standing in front of the door to the dojo. Opening it, he stepped in and saw a lean, strong boy with dark skin, purple hair and bright orange eyes practicing kendo exercises with a wooden sword. He stopped as he saw the Captain enter, and bowed.

"Captain Kurosaki, sir," he said, putting the wooden sword aside. He was wearing loose-fitting pants and an orange vest over a standard SMC shirt, and sweat was beading along his brow.

"Hey, Suzaku," Ichigo greeted back, frowning to himself at the formality he always seemed to be greeted with; it just didn't seem right. Brushing those thoughts aside, he walked over closer to the boy and sat down, with Suzaku following suit shortly after.

"How's it going, kid?" the Captain began, his tone solicitous. The Shihoin prince just sighed.

"As well as could be hoped for, I guess," he replied wearily. "The memories keep barging in, but at least they've stopped showing up in my dreams."

Ichigo smiled. "Well, that's a start, isn't it?" he asked cheerfully. Suzaku gave a half-hearted version of his mother's feline grin in return.

"Better than nothing," he agreed. "Still, it's a pain every time I have to remind myself not to call Captain Ichimaru by his first name."

Kurosaki laughed.

"If that's the least of your worries, kid," he said, "you're going to be fine. Just keep working on separating the memories, and you'll have nothing to worry about."

"I hope you're right, Captain," Suzaku spoke as he got up, stretching one of his tired shoulders.

"If you'll excuse me, sir, Captain Soi Fon wants to see me, and I don't want to make her wait," the boy finished, barely repressing a small shudder before bowing and flashing away. Ichigo smiled; he knew that Soi Fon absolutely adored the young Shihoin, and was personally overseeing his training as a member of the Second Division. But she didn't cut him any slack just because of who he was, and neither did her Lieutenant, for that matter; Jaegerjaques seemed to enjoy training the kid as much as his Captain did, if not more. He claimed it was because he needed a break from drilling screw-ups all day long and enjoyed tutoring someone with talent for a change, but Ichigo couldn't help but wonder if having a kid of his own had made Grimmjow more paternal than he let on.

As he was walking out of the dojo, Ichigo's eyes fell on a girl with shoulder-length light green hair and dark, searching green eyes.

"Captain Kurosaki," she greeted calmly, executing a perfect salute. "Have you seen Suzaku anywhere? I was under the impression that he would be here, but it seems as though he is not."

Sirena Schiffer had her father's outward coldness, but anyone who knew her well enough, few though those people might be, knew that she hid her mother's kindness and openness under the calm, stoic exterior.

"He actually left to go to a meeting with Captain Soi Fon; you just missed him," Ichigo said, seeing a look of disappointment cross the girl's face for the briefest of moments before it sunk back down beneath her now-placid expression.

"Very well," she said, turning on her heels with impeccable poise before walking away. "Thank you for your help, sir."

Not wanting to risk setting his timetable back by running into any more of the youngins, Ichigo flash-stepped the distance between him and his office. Opening the door and walking in, the Captain was met with a surprising, but not completely unexpected face.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," Byakuya greeted with just a hint of warmth in his voice. "I trust you are well?"

The orange-haired Soul Reaper smirked and gave a curt nod; there was a tacit understanding between the men that if Ichigo wasn't going to address Byakuya by his title, then the Kuchiki noble wasn't going to address Kurosaki formally either, now that that Ichigo actually had a title the Sixth Division Captain could neglect to mention.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What brings you here, Byakuya?"

"I was merely stopping in to check on Rukia. Which reminds me," he added, his grey eyes flashing with barely-concealed amusement, "my guards found your daughter snooping around on my property the other day. If Masaki wants to visit, all she has to do is ask."

Ichigo fought back the urge to smack his forehead.

"She was probably just trying to prank Kaien, if I had to guess. I'll talk to her about that."

"Very well," Byakuya said, nodding slightly before flashing away. Rukia entered the main room of the office soon after from one of the side-rooms, filling the void left by her brother's departure.

"There you are," she said, exasperated. "Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I'm not wearing that _haori_, Ichigo. Gods know I do enough of the paperwork around here."

"And you have my undying gratitude for that, midget," Kurosaki said affectionately, sweeping her up into a kiss. As they broke apart, a sly smirk crossed the brown-eyed Soul Reaper's face.

"Besides, there's one reason you'd never take his _haori_ away from me," he said smugly.

"Oh?" Rukia retored, raising an elegant eyebrow. "And what would that be, Captain Kurosaki?"

"I look too damn good in it," Ichigo breathed, an almost predatory undercurrent to his voice that made the violet-eyed Kuchiki's knees unexpectedly weak as her blood decided to warm up by a few degrees.

"Ichigo…" she protested as he moved in for another, more heated kiss, "not here. I thought we'd talked about this. If someone comes in…"

"They won't," he insisted, the warm tone of his voice melting away her misgivings inch by inch.

"But…"

"Shhh…"

And then the Captain well and truly closed off any further protests by pressing his lips gently and lovingly to those of his wife, and was about to take this pleasing extracurricular elsewhere when…

"Ichigo Kurosaki," the disembodied voice of a Hell Butterfly rang out, "Head Captain Kyoraku has requested your presence!"

"God damn it," Ichigo growled breaking away reluctantly from his loved one, who seemed as full of regret as he was.

"All right, I'll just make this meeting quick," the Captain fumed. "Geez, you think Captain Kyoraku of all people would know never to give another guy blue-balls," the brown-eyed Soul Reaper muttered under his breath, and Kuchiki chuckled.

"Classy, idiot."

"Shut up, midget."

Ichigo flashed from his office to the Central Headquarters in a single step, all but ripping the massive doors from their hinges.

"You wanted to se—" the Fifth Division Captain began, before finding that Shunsui was nowhere to be seen; Captain Ukitake was holding down court on his own at the moment, and looked up confusedly.

"Can I help you, Ichigo?"

An awkward moment passed before Kurosaki's eyes widened in realization.

"… That _bastard!_" Kurosaki growled, flashing back to his office with rage in his eyes.

In the main room of Kuchiki Manor, Bykakuya's lips twitched up into a smug smirk: the boy really was too easy to mess with.

* * *

Back in the halls of the Soul Reaper Headquarters, Kikazaru Shihoin was making a run for some more supplies when his gaze strayed to the interior of a small dojo and he froze, rooted to the ground more firmly than a redwood. His wide golden eyes were riveted on the training form of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen:

Tomoe Jaegerjaques.

Long blue hair flowed down past her shoulders and stopped right above the middle of her back, and her midnight-black eyes were more intense than a _cero_ blast from Captain Kurosaki. She was a goddess in the young Shihoin boy's eyes; flawless, fierce, magnetic, an indecipherable enigma…

And utterly unattainable.

It was well-known that Tomoe had inherited her mother's propensity for hero-worship, but rather than target Kikazaru's mother, her gaze had fallen on Kenpachi Zaraki, the Captain of her squad. For now it was innocent, but the young Shihoin knew that some day that infatuation would change into unadulterated adoration, and if Kikazaru hadn't tried to make his move by then he would never have a chance. Sure, Lieutenant Jaegerjaques had been able to win the stoic Soi Fon's affections, but the story went that that had only been accomplished through a display of raw strength in a duel. Instead of giving Kikazaru hope, the possibility of repeating Grimmjow's success only made his heart sink further; he was a scientist, not a fighter, and Tomoe had inherited her mother's tenacity and her father's desire to be the strongest fighter around. There was no way he could win her eye that way, that was for sure…

"Oi, Zaru!"

The blonde-haired Shihoin snapped out of his thoughts in an instant, shocked to see the very face that had just been occupying his thoughts now right in front of him, those onyx orbs boring holes through his eyes and down into his soul. For a moment Kikazaru completely forgot that he despised being called by that nickname, his normally smooth way with words evaporating along with most of the moisture in his mouth.

"Y—Yeah?" he sputtered out, followed by feeling an intense desire to slam his head into a wall for how weak that had sounded. A blue eyebrow arched up in concern.

"Are you all right? You look a little out of it."

"Oh no, no," the young scientist insisted, shaking his head emphatically. "I'm fine, really. I just have to, uh… supplies, that's right! I have to get these supplies down to my dad's lab!"

Tomoe shot the Shihoin boy a sidelong glance.

"Um, Zaru?" she said, "You're not carrying any supplies."

The golden-eyed boy blinked twice and looked down to find that his arms were, indeed, empty. Scrambling to think of a way to cover his slip, Kikazaru thanked the stars that he had inherited his father's brains as he thought of something to say right before things got too awkward.

"Well, what I meant to say was that I need to go get the supplies, and _then_ run them down to my dad's lab!" he replied hastily, before scratching the back of his neck lightly in embarrassment. Tomoe, far from being put off by the Shihoin boy, just shrugged.

"Sounds like fun, I guess," she said, turning back around and walking back into the training room.

"I'm gonna work on putting the finishing touches on this move of mine I'm developing," she called out. "The Captain's coming by later, and I want to have to ready by then. It'll blow his mind, Zaru; I just know it!"

Kikazaru's heart fell like a stone, his shoulders sagging as he trudged away to go fetch the supplies his father needed, all of the spring in his step gone.

_Shit._

* * *

"Ran-chan, it's three in the afternoon."

"What's your point, Cap~tain?" the strawberry-blonde Lieutenant replied provocatively, almost, _almost_ breaking through the iron restraint of her silver-haired Captain.

"My point is that you shouldn't be drinking right now, and especially not here! If Inari comes running in here and sees you taking shots, what kinda message d'you think that sends?" Normally Gin kept a veil of mist around his emotions at all times, but whenever his son was brought into the picture it was like Ichimaru became a whole different person. Matsumoto just rolled her eyes at her Captain.

"Oh, come on, Gin," she said, slipping back into the tone they had used when they were kids, a sign that she was at least two sheets to the wind, if not three. "That's not gonna happen; he has class right now!"

As if on some perverse cue, the patter of energetic feet was soon heard racing down the hallway, and Shinso made short work of the sake jug just as the silver-haired, grayish-blue-eyed whirlwind touched down in front of them. Looking askance at his mother for a moment, the boy turned his perceptive gaze on his father.

"Has mommy been drinking again?" he asked pointedly, and the Captain shot his Lieutenant a glance so scathing it made Zangetsu seem dull. Matsumoto had the humility to at least cringe a little, but then just shrugged it off and finished the cup she had been holding before her husband had destroyed the jug. If their son had already put it together in his head, after all, there was no point in denying it.

"Can I have some?"

The question caught both of Inari's parents off-guard, and they stared at him.

"Sure, why not?"

"No, of course not!"

Gin and Rangiku looked at each other awkwardly after their simultaneous responses, and the boy before them just laughed.

"Just kidding! Man," he said, the glint in his eye telling his father that the master manipulator had just been manipulated, "you should have seen the looks on your faces! Well," Inari finished, turning around and walking out of the office, "that one class got out early, but I have another one right now that I'm already late for. See ya!"

Not only had their son apparently inherited his father's knack for playing with people's heads and his raw talent, he also had his mother's lack of regard for procedure and more-than-slight lazy streak. In short, Inari Ichimaru was a precocious, capricious and manipulative prodigy who was too lazy to push himself but smart enough to know that he didn't really have to.

"Ran-chan," the garnet-eyed Soul Reaper spoke slowly after their son had left the room, "what have we done?"

"Sometimes, Gin," his loved one replied, taking another shot from a reserve bottle of sake, "I ask myself that same question. But I wouldn't trade him for the world, I'll tell you that much."

"Yeah," the Captain said softly, a smile creeping across his face, "neither would I."

* * *

As it turned out, an actual Captain's Meeting was called later in the day, giving Ichigo ample opportunity to glare daggers at the Sixth Division Captain across from him, while Byakuya was trying valiantly not to let any glimmer of mischievous glee show on his face.

"This Meeting is hereby called to order," Thirteenth Division Captain and co-Head Captain Jushiro Ukitake's voice rang out. "Head Captain Kyoraku, do you have anything to say before we… damn it, Shunsui," he said with a tired sigh as he glanced over and saw that his friend had fallen asleep standing up, "not _again_. OI!"

Kyoraku shot awake at the sudden shout, looking around frantically before he realized what had happened and exhaled heavily, readjusting his hat.

"Man, you don't have to shout so loud," he grumbled. "I can hear your inside voice just fine."

Ukitake frowned.

"Considering all of the times you've purposefully ignored my advice," he said almost acidly, "I find that hard to believe."

"Hey," Ichigo's voice broke in, "I don't mean to be disrespectful or anything, but can we get this thing started?"

"Why the hurry, Ichigo Kurosaki?" Byakuya asked smugly. "Unfinished business to attend to?"

"You son of a—"

The argument that was sure to erupt was cut off abruptly by the sound of the doors to the meeting hall being thrown open. One of the Twelfth Division scientists stood there, panting for a tense moment or two until he raised his head and spoke.

"_Garganta_…" he gasped, completely winded from his sprint. "Arrancar, two miles out! It's a big one!"

Captain Unohana rushed to the man's side as he passed out from fatigue, and Ichigo stepped forward.

"I'll go check it out," he said. "You guys stay here; if I need backup, I'll let you know."

"No," Kido Corps Captain Ulquiorra Schiffer said in a firm voice that brooked no argument, "I will go with you. If it is a low-ranking arrancar, I may be able to force it into submission without even entering into direct combat."

The Fifth Division Captain flashed a sly smile at that statement that the other Captains found rather curious, but it faded after a moment and he nodded.

"All right, since there doesn't seem to be any dissuading you, let's go."

The pair of them vanished in a flash-step, leaving the other Captains anxiously awaiting their return, and wondering what this odd turn of events could possibly mean.

* * *

Ichigo and Ulquiorra touched down right next to the Arrancar's energy signature, and the former Fourth Espada's eyes widened as he saw who was standing there. He instinctively reached for this zanpakuto, only to have the Arrancar's tired voice cut him off.

"Sheathe your sword, Ulquiorra-kun," he said almost lazily. "I'm not in the mood for shedding blood, and I would hate to have to kill you."

Schiffer seemed wracked with indecision for a moment, before Ichigo moved forward and addressed the new arrival.

"You're late, Stark."

The former First Espada gave a small smirk, raising his left arm up. A single shackle was dangling from it, and the number 1 on his hand had been supplanted by a burn scar, like Grimmjow's 6 had once been.

"My deepest apologies, Kurosaki-sama," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "but as I hope you can see, I've been otherwise occupied. Congratulations on the promotion, by the way."

"Kurosaki," Ulquiorra broke back in, "would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?"

"We don't have time for pleasantries," Stark spoke seriously,

"You Soul Reapers are in deep, deep shit."

* * *

_Hueco Mundo_

"I don't understand why you think this is a good idea, Ulysses," a slender, dark-haired Arrancar said sharply, her voice trembling on the edge of anger as her brown eyes narrowed with conviction. "Their forces are still woefully depleted, and the majority of what soldiers they have are still raw recruits. If we strike now, their end is assured. Isn't that what we've been striving so hard to achieve?"

"While your points may carry some weight, Medea," Ulysses replied, an Arrancar with shocking red hair and a regal build befitting his name, "they are ultimately irrelevant. If we do not strike down the Soul Reapers at their full strength, our dominance will inevitably be questioned. As long as a shred of hope remains in their hearts, those scum will never stop challenging us.

"As you should know, Medea," the Arrancar at the head of the table continued, spreading his hand out and motioning at the other Arrancar that sat at the table, "as should the rest of the Dekatimori, the reason why we have come this far is to do nothing less than upset the order of the universe as it has stood for countless millennia. We Hollows have always been looked down upon as beasts, wild animals scavenging on those pathetic humans to fatten ourselves up for the slaughter.

"We can allow this trend to continue no longer! Our empire grows by the day as more and more of our brethren flock to our banner. We will soon stand united as a race, a force powerful enough to rip down everything those pompous, prideful maggots called Soul Reapers hold dear. We cannot allow our people to be brought to heel ever again; not by someone like Sosuke Aizen, and not those bastard, toadying Arrancar who called themselves the Espada. From this day forward we, the ten Dekatimori, will lead our people into a future free from mindless butchery and persecution. We will establish Hollows as an independent power to be reckoned with, not just as beasts roaming endlessly through a desert plain.

"There is but one obstacle standing in our way, and that is the Soul Reaper. But if we crush them now, if we bring our full might down upon the chrysalis before it has had a chance to bloom, then we are no better than they are. We must allow them time to reclaim their full power, and only then, once our victory comes, will it be beyond qualification. Our rule must be utterly secure and totally absolute, or every single Hollow that sacrificed itself to create the ten of us that stand here today will have given their lives in vain, and I for one will not allow that to happen!"

A hearty cheer erupted around the table, and only two of the ten, Medea and one other, did not join the chorus.

"I believe that going to war at all is foolish," the other one who had stayed silent broached, a red eye flashing while the other, which was grey but could still see, remained as hard as flint. One of the other Arrancar grinned widely, his dark eyes gleaming with barely-subdued madness.

"And why would that be, Jason, hmm?" he asked liltingly, his smile widening even further as he began to look like a wolf eyeing a fresh corpse.

"We all know you're a coward," he continued spitefully, "but there must be some other reason."

The red- and grey-eyed Arrancar looked like he was about to lunge across the table for a moment, but restrained himself.

"Consider for a moment what those so-called 'maggots' were able to do even with their forces so grievously emaciated by the war with Aizen," he said. "Not only did they repulse wave after wave of hellspawn, they managed to survive having the entire Seireitei razed to the ground, not to mention the death of their Captain Commander, _and_ still have the strength to destroy Aizen once and for all. If we let them marshal the full strength of their forces before we strike, do you honestly think we have a chance in Hell of succeeding?"

"There is nothing being left to chance here, Jason," Ulysses said calmly, his voice diffusing the tension between the two Arrancar with ease.

"If you do not feel that your views are those of the Dekatimori, however, you are more than welcome to leave this chamber right now and not one of us will not think poorly of you."

"I will, fucking pansy," the one who had started the argument growled, until a tightly-controlled beam of _cero_ lanced right in front of his face, barely missing his nose.

"Janus," Ulysses continued, his calm voice taking on a subtle edge, "please try to refrain from provoking any more quarrels in the future, or I will be forced to ensure that you will never be able to fight again. If there is one thing we cannot afford to do, it is set the example for the rest of our kind that such petty squabbling and backstabbing is acceptable. Is that in any way unclear?"

The grinning Arrancar's mouth flattened into a thin, grim line, but in the end he caved and nodded.

"Of course."

The red-haired Arrancar nodded in turn, giving a small smile.

"Good. Now, before we adjourn this gathering, is there anything else anyone would like to add?"

Medea cleared her throat and swept her dark hair out of her face before speaking, her eyes remaining has narrow as they had been before.

"I still object to the example you made of that poor girl. It was cruel and, in my humble opinion, absolutely inexcusable. Now that Stark has escaped from us, there is no reason why he would not side with the Soul Reapers and concentrate all of his strength on obtaining his vengeance."

"First and foremost," Ulysses countered, his voice never faltering, "that bastard 'Espada' Stark is of no concern to us. His power was determined by the charlatan Sosuke Aizen, and not by the unwritten laws that govern Hueco Mundo. He may have been a Vasto Lorde, like each and every one of us sitting here, but he was a disgrace to the title, a fake propped up by a false God. Second, as far as his fraccion is concerned, I do not believe that her sentence overstepped any bounds laid down by our people."

"What?!" The brown-eyed Arrancar half-shouted, the mask fragment running along her arm glinting in the light as her fist slammed down into the table.

"How can you say that? You publicly tortured her for days on end! And then you _crucified_ her! You gave her no chance to defend herself by rite of combat! You _butchered_—"

"Silence!"

The calm voice became thunderous, silencing the impassioned argument in an instant.

"While I will agree that her judgment was harsh," Ulysses began once he had calmed down, "an example had to be made. Nevertheless, the fact remains that if Stark acts against us, he will act as a lone, rabid wolf; nothing more. There is no way the Soul Reapers would accept his assistance, and we have the perfect hostage to assure his docility."

"Bullshit," Jason scoffed, picking up where his comrade had left off. "They already took in Jaegerjaques and Schiffer; why not one more if it will give them an edge? And you seem to forget that Stark broke out of his confinement, despite our so-called 'best' guards watching him. Who's to say he won't come back and break out Halibel as well?"

"Because Stark is no fool, unlike you," Janus spat, his feral grin replaced by dead seriousness. "He knows that if we even so much as smell him re-entering Hueco Mundo, the blond-haired bitch meets the same fate as his fraccion."

"I believe this meeting has run its course, my friends," the red-haired Arrancar at the head of the table said once the tension had abated.

"I move that we give the Soul Reapers ten years to replenish their strength, and then we move to destroy them utterly. What say you?"

The rest of the ten, apart from Medea and Jason, raucously voiced their approval of Ulysses' plan.

"Very well, then," he declared, "ten years it is."

* * *

_Soul Society_

"… Please tell me you're joking, Stark."

The former First Espada gave a bitter, almost raspy chuckle.

"Believe me, kid," he said to Ichigo, "I wish I was."

Ulquiorra was still in shock over seeing his old comrade on such good terms with Kurosaki, but something else gave him pause as well.

"Stark-sama," he began almost hesitantly, as if he didn't want to hear the answer, "did you say that they are, all ten of them, Vasto Lorde?"

"I thought you were supposed to be the sharp one, Ulquiorra-kun," Stark replied, sighing. "Are you really going to make me repeat myself?"

Schiffer's eyes widened and he became a shade paler, something that made the Fifth Division Captain incredibly uneasy.

"What's wrong, Ulquiorra?"

When the Kido Corps Captain was still too stunned to speak, Stark stepped in for him.

"In the original Espada, how many of us do you think were Vasto Lorde class, kid?"

Ichigo paused for a moment, thinking.

"Six?" he guessed. There was no way someone as tenacious as Grimmjow wasn't a Vasto Lorde, with the way he had fought so viciously during their duel…

But that train of thought was promptly and thoroughly derailed as Stark held up four slender fingers.

"Myself, Halibel, Barragan and Ulquiorra were the only four Vasto Lorde-class Arrancar among the Espada. Think about how much trouble you had fighting Ulquiorra," he finished,

"And then imagine fighting ten of those, some of whom are more powerful than he ever was."

Suddenly, Ichigo was feeling very, very sick to his stomach.

"There's still something I don't understand, Stark-sama," Ulquiorra broke back in, his old habit of using honorifics for those who had outranked him as an Espada still present.

"What exactly are you doing here, and how do you know Kurosaki?"

Stark smirked, his eyes glinting as he brushed a stray bang from his face and began to speak.

"You might be wondering how I got out of the Maggot's Nest," he said. "Truth is, I didn't escape, and I couldn't have anyway thanks to those pesky reiatsu-binding chains they had me trussed up in. Ichigo over there let me out," Stark continued, pointing over to the orange-haired Soul Reaper, "with a proviso. I took Lilnette with me and got sprung from jail, but in exchange I had to be this kid's eyes and ears in Hueco Mundo.

"I was really content to just sleep in the cell, but Lilinette wouldn't shut up, so I took him up on his offer. When we got back there with Halibel, though, those 'Dekatimori' bastards ambushed us and threw us in their own dungeons. That's why I've been out of commission for so long."

The brown-eyed Soul Reaper didn't miss the melancholy that seeped into Stark's voice at the mention of his deceased fraccion, and he frowned.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Stark," Ichigo offered. "If you hadn't gone back on my orders…"

The former First Espada just cut him off with a lazy wave of his hand.

"Don't give me that self-pity crap, kid," he shot back. "I was going to wind up there one way or the other, whether or not you'd enlisted me to do your spying."

"What about Halibel-sama?" Ulquiorra asked. "They haven't killed her, have they? We could go to Hueco Mundo and—"

"Absolutely not, Ulquiorra-kun," Stark cut him off. "If I go back in there to try and bust her out, they'll put her head on a spike before I can so much as say her name. No," he finished, yawning into the back of his hand,

"I'm gonna have to stay with you guys, until you get yourselves prepared. We have ten years to get ready for Armageddon, gentlemen," the Former First Espada said, cracking his knuckles.

"I suggest we start now."

* * *

**A/N 2: **Well, there you have it. This story has finally come to a close, and now I get to start working on the sequel! It's going to be titled "Empire of the Moon", and will begin nine years after the end of LCA's Epilogue, or a total of 19 years from the end of LCA proper. If you want to make sure that you don't miss out, add me to your Author Alert list. It shouldn't take too long for the first chapter to be published; it's already underway.

Thank you so very, very much to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story as it's grown and progressed (and if you haven't reviewed yet, now's your chance!); your continued support and encouragement were really what made this possible, and I can't say that enough. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it, and I think the sequel promises to be even better than this.

Oh, and for those of you wondering about certain things that might have been missing, such as whether or not Uryu and Orihime had a kid or what happened to Saika, those questions will be answered in the sequel for sure. But here's a little something to hold you over: yes, Uryu and Orihime did have a daughter, and she's quite the handful. You'll meet her in the sequel. Also, how those ten Vasto Lorde evolved into Arrancar will be explained, fear not. Speaking of which, 'Dekatimori' is Greek (roughly) for "Ten Avengers", in case any of you were curious about that.

JP


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